


Highevers Lamented

by BatHobbit78



Series: DRAGON AGE - Thedas Tales [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatHobbit78/pseuds/BatHobbit78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years since Elissa & Alistair parted. He took the throne alone without her and she locked herself away in Weisshaupt. Alistair is forced to save Elissa Cousland from herself and the new dangers she throws herself into head first..without him and because of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A REWRITE PROMPTED BY MY LOVELY REVIEWERS TO CARRY THE STORY ON SO I HAVE MOVED IT FROM ITS ORIGINAL PLACE ON FANFICTION.NET TO HERE. 
> 
> I so wanted the happy ending but I pondered with the idea that Elissa Cousland and Alistair may not have broken so amicable. So what happens then? They obviously were made for each other? Responsibilities make us do the stupidest things. These events do not run alongside any characters or events in awakenings or Dragon Age 2 and are homage to the afterlife of the original game and it's fabulous characters and DLC’s and Inquisition tie-ins. Thanks :)

Highever never looked more beautiful than when it was wrapped in the dark and nestled in the snow.

When the winter fell in the ending months, it always brought a strange comfort and a slow ease towards the events of the ending calendar. For wives it would mean their husbands would come home from the work that was found in the further cities or villages where it was available. Mothers who had lost their sons to the frequent call of duty and war would hope to see them march home again wounded and yearning for the quiet of the home that brought them comfort in the dark; the blissful white making it more beautiful than their minds could ever conjure. The only stain on the warm and setting scene would be for thoughts of those who had not returned and those who were expecting them. The constant drum beat kept any lingering thoughts in check and the tired march in progress but as they neared home it banged longer and yet softer as their battered armour clanged a soft lullaby to the hooves of the war torn mounts that neighed in exhaustion. 

This was how it always was and how it will always be.

A lone figure stood upon the snow dunes of Highever its cloak drifting off with the breeze brought by the high air. It listened to the marching pipes and tavern tunes the soldiers played to let everyone know they were coming as hopes seemed to now rise on sight of the warm lights coming from the small battlement ahead of them. Strands of loose raven black hair escaped from its shelter of a fur-lined hide cloak and intertwined with the snowflakes that fell loosely on the shadow. A pair of battle worn hands gripped the hilts of its side daggers firmly, not fooled by the steadiness of the air that surrounded it. Looking down the silhouette watched over the weary festivities of the castle grounds deep below, enough skulking, the shadow thought, better get this over with.

_**Shadows Fall** _

_**And hope has fled** _

_**Steel your heart** _

_**The dawn will come** _

The old song of faith and courage floated over the hills and wrapped itself around the tired and brave souls proudly lifting their chins as they marched those final steps towards warmth and light.

Elissa Cousland should be in a pretty dress waiting wistfully at one of the battlement windows as the true and just march in through _her_ keeps drawbridge but she was not; she was soul deep in the war and its blood. She carried scars that even now ate at her body and hope. Nothing was left but a long sleep and even in her bleakest moments she could think of nothing that she was more thankful for. This needed to end. Her calling had come and this time it was for real.

As she trekked down the dunes and out of the shadows where she hid, her rag tag band of Wardens, mages and Chantry apprentices began their short walk through the surrounding Highever village and through the valley. She fell in line with the other soldiers returning home and prepared herself for the tired smiles and light pats on the shoulder that were inbound from the welcoming embrace of those who had come outside their homes and shops to meet them. 

Highever Village had been her playground as a child. She used to escape here often when her mother would wish to put her through elocution lessons or when a tutor would try in vain to find her as she hid in the valleys light forest on the outskirts of her fathers lands. It was clear to all that Elissa Cousland would never be the lady of the house and they would have been in real trouble if not for Fergus… _Fergus_ ….  They had been blissfully ignorant as children to the danger fate had in store for their family and she wondered if the prayers she made daily to escape to a life of adventure instead of stuffy posture classes had been answered and this was her punishment? She turned her black thoughts to the familiar faces who now smiled sadly at her from their doorways reading their concern as they gazed upon her, comparing the vibrant child she used to be to the staunch and silent figure now before them.

She was no Teyrna.

She had not known it when she left Ferelden four years ago but she had gone looking for trouble. She travelled aimlessly for a year before finally following the beacon inside her to the stone grey walls of Weisshaupt where she resigned herself to its shadows and listened. She listened to the reports coming back daily on the progress of a fresh Warden Commander in Ferelden and the fall of both Amaranthine and Vigils Keep but yet she did nothing to help and when asked she offered no council. She listened to the reports of Darkspawn gathering further ground in the Deeproads and offered no advice or support. The First Warden removed her name from the roster offering her only room and board quietly expecting her to recover from the Blight in her own time and when calls to Denerim would come for the 'Teyrna of Highever' they were refused and returned politely. If she had been any other Warden she often wondered if he would have tolerated her disposition back then but he always tallied all her quietness to the Archdemons “lingerings”. Elissa once overheard him telling his Sensechal that for the sacrifice she had given she should be allowed to be at peace in their home, her “Duty was done”; but he never knew what had truly killed her inside because if he knew he would have dunked her in a bucket of ice water again and again until she got over herself, that wouldn't have worked of course nothing did until Halamshiral made itself apparent on her radar.

Eventually the time came when all the Wardens around her became as morose as her and this awakened her instincts sharply. She listened to those who were affected and noticed who wasn't and with new purpose she suited up and finally ventured out with the intent of cleansing whatever threatened the very ideals she thought the Grey Wardens stood for. Something was coming and whilst the others hurried to war rooms and made hushed preparations she left and travelled with a small party for The Winter Palace and its courts of unnecessary fancy and pompous betrayal. This new sensation of hatred and anger spurred her on from her self appointed prison in Weisshaupt like an avenging angel. It had become the only thing she was focused on and she allowed it to consume her entirely for years living amongst those who flanced the name of the wardens for invites to parties and political tables. 

In the two years she spent at court she saw it all. The rise and fall of the wardens, the comings and goings of an inquisition and the crippling struggle for power in the chantry. Everything lay in waste but Ferelden still seemed to grow beautifully on its Avvar roots into something stronger, she would see it again before her enemies caught up with her and she would see out the plans she made before they did; righting the wrong of never coming to its aid as she wallowed in her own despair that still nagged at her soul hourly. She would fix the wardens internally and free them from the grasp of Orlesian corruption.

She finally marched from the frilly clasps of her last port in Val Royeaux years later with all the dignity she could muster whilst throwing an almighty spanner in their little game of self preservation. She had sat and she had listened to the farce that was occurring in Orlais and then she rode out towards Highever with only two loyal Wardens to join her and a price on her head. She had not meant to but on return to Ferelden she had attracted conscripts with every mile home and she knew she had to strengthen the ranks of the Greys in Ferelden for what was about to come. They had fallen so hard during the Inquisition and were forced to do things that went against the very grain of what they stood for, tricked into becoming what they feared and fought against to survive for Thedas’s future. Even in their darkest hour the Wardens orders she intercepted were never for their own benefit, she was horrified when she learnt of the first Wardens death and his replacements decision to trust in Tevinter but bigger things kept her away and concentrating on the matter she was up to her neck in. She was worried that if she contacted the First Warden she would pull her back and she would go willingly as she had said ‘no’ to them too many times for her own conscience, something pulled at her to obey them but her feet stayed firmly put with her stubborn attitude and refusal to get under the radar. The whole matter just amplified the simple facts that no one around her seemed to feel any calling or need to panic, it was all rotten and wrong and she had to fix it.

The costs would be high and this would mean war.

A Grey Warden civil war. Sides would have to be chosen, she had started this and she would finish it before it consumed the remaining heart of the wardens leaving nothing for the next blight and dooming Thedas to its fate.

She needed to get home and make the final plans.

_Home…what a word…_

What was home? Home was where the heart should be? No if home was where her heart should be then it should be the fade. She had no comforts anymore and she liked it that way, when she was comfortable her mood would darken and her memories would return. She had no time for comforts as they were her weakness and she was drastically about to change that: first she needed to make sure those who followed her were taken care of and safe. Her thoughts strayed to the plan before her and the people now marching behind her; perhaps too many had followed her back to Highever?

The effect the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ had on Thedas was still astonishing even after all this time. She had now witnessed the lethal ritual of passage what seemed like a hundred times and she had become more distant and cold with each one. She needed to be, not all would survive and after a while each unlucky candidate who sipped and died just became a number to her as she pursed her lips and closed her eyes thinking how Duncan would have dealt with death at her own initiation. Some of the battered soldiers returning with her now were originally from Highever but most were about to call this bruised keep home for the first time and a light smiled played at her cracked lips at the thought that her old family home would welcome these brave friends in as its own just as her father would.

As she dropped the hood of her cloak and shook her hair loose, a sudden spray of light fluttered past her with small gasps of joy adjoined to it. The colours were beautiful and felt like a summer’s day as they whizzed around her. _Firebugs_ , she thought to herself s _uch a beautiful thing on such a sour day_ , She sighed and her heart sank an extra few miles deeper into her bleak soul. Nothing would hold the joys she used to feel when she made this final stride home; life could never be the way it was four years ago.

Never.

As they reached the top of Highever and stopped before the great doors of her old home, a watchman made the traditional call down do the figures in the dark. His torch billowing madly in the air as it struggled to stay alight.

“By the name of the house of Cousland state your business!” A voice roared down and over the wind. The watchman knew who they were but procedure was procedure when an army this size arrived at your door. The marching drums and tavern songs behind her stopped and the Chantry apprentices stowed their incense and prayers for Highever. Silence fell awaiting her words and she felt the people of her old village behind her stiffen. The last time this tradition occurred we let the bastards in…and we paid heavily,  _perhaps they shouldn't be so jovial_  she thought to herself when those cursed memories seeped back in. His words were sent with a smile and it was a sure sign of the delight the people inside the walls were feeling. She knew all too well that her men would be treated like kings tonight and her reply was softened.

The sound of wardens behind her dropping to their knees reached her ears and old habits of custom overtook them all. Their heads and eyes lowered to the ground as a sign that they made no effort to assess the castle for weakness or the walls for access should it be denied.

“I am Elissa Cousland, second child of Teyrn Bryce Cousland. I am Teyrna of this castle and its lands. Re-appointed Knight Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens and slayer of the blights armies. Lay down your arms brothers we come with peace in our hearts as this army…is Ferelden’ s army…This army is your army!”

A deafening sound of celebration erupted as Elissa bowed her head with her right palm laid on her chest. Not until the metal gate rose and the creaking of the drawbridge began did she raise her head and step back for its arrival. As her men began to stand again she cast her gaze up to the windows of the top wall where her room had always been, she saw a fire was lit inside it as the light was seeping out and into the night. In a blink she thought she had caught a glimpse of a fleeing figure standing and watching down on the activities below, a servant perhaps fluffing her pillow and lighting the candles by her desk? Her people tried their hardest to spoil her when she came home but she refused most of it. She had taken to not letting them know she was returning on the odd times she found herself back on this side of Thedas but this time she was left with little choice, much needed to be done.

Elissa held her head high and forced the corners of her mouth to turn up into a smile as she ventured first across the great bridge and into Highevers impressive courtyard. The sound of the soldiers armoured boots and horses hooves made a great clattering that felt like a line was being drawn under her final chapter. This was it. She had made it….to Highever castle. She fought the annoying impulse to call it ‘home’ and proceeded to march towards the castle doors and into the cackle of old family, friends and servants who had not only survived the massacre four years ago but also the blight, the Quinari raids and then the cursed fade rifts that appeared to be swallowing Ferelden up as a whole. Much had happened within the Grey Wardens over the last four years and she was not as easily available to travel back and help as she wished. Greed and corruption was staining the order and all the good Greys travelled to their calling earlier then they should. Corypheus the conductor did so much to damage the Greys and most left Thedas to its devices but those who survived the ‘calling’ disappeared into the hills never to be heard of again shame destroying their lust for life and duty, she understood that more then anyone.

Elissa made it her mission to build the numbers ready for the next blight and rebuild the Grey Wardens name as she travelled the Ferelden countryside in the shadows but word spread and cities like Val Royeaux and Denerim looked at this as her building her own personal army, in their defence it had happened before. She was recalled time and time again to the seedy elegance of Val Royeaux but Weisshaupt ignored their accusations. She had been given a free pass to defy by the old ones and some resented her for it, keeping her close so they could watch her or turn her to their cause. It sickened her. She was the Hero of Ferelden and even after the Herald of Andraste people didn't forget what she had done to save them and news of her trip home spread through Thedas. They would meet her on the road or in small villages. The biggest gathering and saddest sight she had witnessed was as they travelled through the ruins of Vigils Keep. She rode through the gates and was greeted by desperate boys and girls with nowhere to go, such poverty and despair, what on earth was their ridiculous king doing about it. If she was honest most of the trouble she caused was to anger him and make his life difficult.  _I hate him_!

_Stop it , Elissa…not him, never think of him!_

Elissa Cousland, Warden Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens steeled her now trembling fingers and touched the hands of all who requested it. She had become somewhat of a leading figure since the blight, but she cared nothing for it. Nothing mattered any-more, not even the new danger. In fact she quite thought she might be ready to sit down and talk with it this time. She didn't mind if no one wanted to join her, she would gladly go on her own. This plan had been etching itself out in her head on the four-week journey home. ’ _Mustn't let them know. Smile Elissa…Smile_.’

Well, it is what you do isn't it? When your heart won’t beat any more and your soul seeps away every time you close your eyes. She used to think that she had run out of tears but that was just a ruse her mind played on her. For a few months after…after…she still couldn't think about it. The pain threatened to spread across her face and they would know, they would finally find out that the hero of Ferelden wasn't as strong as they all thought.

She found a friendly face and made her excuses from the crowds now jumping all over the returning heroes. Slipping the top button of her cloak out of its sheath she started to pull at the itchy fabric that had kept her warm. Stepping inside she started to peel off the thermals she had wrapped herself up in and headed towards the fire. Its crackling silence calmed her more than anything else that day. She used to jump at the sight of seeing her old home but now it was nothing more than bricks and mortar.

Empty.

There were only memories.

Bad memories.

Memories she never wanted to embrace again. And she never will if…no when her plan took effect.

“My Lady…. There is something you must know…” a voice squeaked beside her . _Arlan_ , she smiled with a crooked glee knowing that he must have been waiting for her some time outside and in. As she glanced down sidewards at him whilst she thawed in the warmth of the fire she noticed his nose was red and his eyes watery, small specks of snow were on his lapel and some had melted into pools of water on his shoulders thawing as he restlessly flitted between the warm halls and cold pathways.

“…Not now Arlan…” she moved. Stalking with purpose to the stairs that carried her up to the upper chambers with a fretful Arlan in tow “Repack my bags, restock my poultices and rations. I will need new armour and a smithy to tend to these. By tonight.” She chucked a small leather holdall at him and the clank as it hit him reassured him that they were her beloved daggers. He reached his eyes to her belt and realised that the helms of the ones she wore at her hip were simple, plain and not of the Cousland armoury.

Arlan was of medium stock and bred for the winter. His father had been steward and loyal friend to Elissa’s own father and she could think of no one else she would have served her the same then Arlan. They had grown up together in the castle and both had lost much during Arl Howe’s treachery and butchery of their home years before. Arlan was fiercely loyal to the warden commander and he was never fooled by the same excuses she would give others as to why she did things. Why she sat by herself of an evening? Why she hardly ate? And why she wanted her weapons sharpened seemingly as if she was to leave again when they were done. And leave she did. Regularly. Always in the dead of night she would sneak in and sneak out with one or two Grey Wardens by her side but never was a big fuss made or a report sent to Denerim to announce her arrival.

On one visit he cleared an entire wing of servant’s quarters and guests so that the sounds of her night-time weeping could not be heard and spread about by the kitchen gossips. He was loyal…and worried. But he also had to tell her that the returning grey wardens were not the only guests that had arrived at the castle that day.

“Erm…My Lady, before you go upstairs I think I should let you know…”

“…Please Arlan I want to take a long bath before I see any bloody nobles and give them their sodding reports. I have shrubbery where shrubbery should never be.”

“…Yes but…erm…” Arlan bustled after her catching random bits of armour as she tossed them at him over her shoulder. She bounded down the long corridor that led to her quarters and removed one boot after another smirking just a little as a thud could be heard when they connected with Arlan. Her feet gloried in the touch of the fine cotton carpet upon her tired and cut feet. They felt so clean as it swept under her tired arches, stroking the calluses away. She swung the doors open to her rooms and turned to face Arlan.

“Get to it Arlan…please.” She smiled as she looked Arlan in the eyes thinking of what she had to do this evening “ You are a good man and don’t think I don’t know what you have done for me…I have been honoured to have known you.” Arlan looked at her forgetting momentarily that he had something important to tell her as he caught the glimpse of goodbye in her eyes. But it was just a glimpse, because she had shut the doors in his face.

Elissa ripped her armoured bodice off and slunk out of her trousers, she took a long sigh and closed her eyes, _not long now_ , she thought to herself as she turned around.

“Hello, Liss”

She could feel her heart jerk, stop and then slowly start again. Thoughts…memories rushed through her mind one clip at a time faster and faster. Sounds, voices, whispers, laughter, roses, meadows, tents…love…pain. She opened her eyes, and she wasn't wrong. She wanted to vomit with remorse.

“Get out!” she spat quietly. She didn't even hear the words come out she just opened her mouth with no power and that’s what came out. It sounded pretty accurate so she stuck with it “GET OUT!” she replied a lot louder. “ARLAN!”

The doors erupted and flew backwards as Arlan ran in, fully aware of what had happened. He had tried to tell her but she wouldn't give him a chance to. He still had arms full of the armour she had chucked at him but dropped them on the ground when he realised Elissa was naked. He brought his hands up to his eyes and turned his back.

“Yes…yes my lady?” he stammered

“Get him out.” She spat at him not taking her eyes off the unwelcome intruder in her room.

“Erm…I cannot. He…he is the king of Ferelden, My lady…I don’t think I can”


	2. Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue to see the re-work of the story with Alistair’s missing years and quest for his father mentioned. All details will be flushed out soon and explained but right now the first time these two set eyes on each other after so long apart is dealt with. I Just wanted to say a HUGE thanks to anyone who left me feedback.. Cheers Amigo’s

Those two words had answered every question he had ever asked himself about Elissa over the last four years.

“GET OUT!”

He knew this wouldn’t be easy but the hate in her eyes was intense. It burned. Hot with fury, anger and…something else; he wanted it to stop.

Her eyes used to glow with life but now they sparkled with rage looking him over for weak spots. He was sure she would like nothing more than to run him through and he was grateful she didn’t have her weapons with her as he may have just let her. As she stood there before him, naked and infuriated he saw the fresh lines of silver scars that dotted her beautiful frame. She had continued to fight whilst he had been forced to stay dry and safe, instead of shame he felt a pang of jealousy ride up his spine and tingle at the back of his now sweating neck. There was one occurrence where he had left the safety of Denerim on a quest of his own but the dullness inside him made the decision to throw himself into danger easier. Since returning back to Denerim he remained reclusive and sombre. He understood what time on your own did to your thoughts and since he resolved his matters of family…nothing was left to drive Elissa from his thoughts. At least his anger was at himself and it was reassuring to know she directed it there also. He deserved it.

Maker’s breath she was not making it any easier for him. She was still as stunning as when they last…her curves, her dangerous curves…not backing down, not covering up. Showing him everything he once treasured and lost in a moment of five treacherous seconds. She stood strong and unabashed at her nudity, not afraid who saw it. That was his Elissa. A finely tuned weapon of mass destruction to all men’s hearts, _especially mine_ he quickly reminded himself. She probably expected him to blush or back down, but he didn’t. Elissa wasn’t the only one who toughened up in those years apart and their stubborn stand-off brought a hushed and even more tense atmosphere. He didn’t even blink away; he pursed his lips and lifted his chin showing her that he wasn’t intimidated. He had, met, other woman on his travels since they parted. He even thought he might have been able to stay with one, she was feisty and brave and more than able to take him on but she wasn’t Elissa…she wasn’t his ‘Liss. Every hit to the face, every kick to the stomach and every slash to the chest was nothing compared to the moment he sent her away. The feel of any other woman’s skin was like sandpaper on him and their scent made his stomach lurch. He felt disloyal but pushed on to try and cure himself of this sickness. He left Denerim to find his Father Maric after rumours of his existence reached his ears but even when he knew he should have come home he pushed on further into danger rather than stay and listen to the walls he had barricaded himself in, telling him he was a fool and he will die alone without her. When the Grey Warden calling came from the Conductor he welcomed it, he would go gladly but then when the ringing stopped in his ears the purpose to see her once more before he died, overcame him. As ever an excuse would occur to him such as the fade rifts appearing in the sky and problems with the Templars or Mages. He allowed these matters of court to consume his time and before he knew years had passed. Well that’s what he told himself. He was a coward and the maker knew he was using everything he had to stand strong and unaffected before her.

_Why are you here Alistair, old boy?leave….._

The Bards had begun their tales and the songs echoed outside as she fumed at her steward before her, the poor man’s back turned to her naked fury. The lament of the Hero of Ferelden, alone and unafraid as she led the charge against the Archdemon rang out through the corridors outside and up through the doors to her chambers. Songs about a broken Ferelden and the woman who fixed it, the people loved her and yet she still rode head first into war when no one was really sure there was one, why?

He had thought about this since she stormed out and away from him four years ago with every report he got back on her. But he was here for a reason and when she flashed her anger at him he felt the cold of the outside weather brush in and over his hope of a peaceful parley with her and _her_ wardens. He had reports come back to him through his trusted channels that she was not popular at her Orlesian base and was ruffling more feathers then she should. He also knew that when she came back to Ferelden the people flocked to her for reassurance and help. This worried his court monkeys and they, in turn, worried him especially when the numbers under her banner were growing mightily.

“Elissa…I ask but only five minutes.” He shrugged and leant up against the wall behind him, arms folded and head to the side. He had mastered nonchalance in these last few years and Maker he was going to give it to her if she was going to spit venom at him “What am I supposed to do? You will not answer correspondences or summons to Denerim. They are anxious and paranoid old men …we need to know what you found. My scouts told me you ran from Orlais, Why?” he hesitated as he began his next sentence but knew he needed to get it out in the manner of a king, in the manner of a man who needed to know where she had been “…our sources said you left rather abruptly?”

The most sensible person in that room took this lull in proceedings to slowly back away towards the door. Her steward had decided that Elissa was far too naked for him and also these matters were not of his concern. Alistair found the Neanderthal in him was relieved and pleased another man was not looking at her in this state and if he had not have left he thought he may have made him. His thoughts turned darker as he wondered if she was standing so freely because she was used to standing in front of men naked. Anger bubbled. She wasn’t for anyone else to look at and if any man had… _Stop_! _Total Hypocrite_ …he reprimanded himself when his thoughts started to wander to whether she had taken a lover in the four years. The doors closed behind him and the hurried whispering of orders was given on the other side and her steward cleared the surrounding ear ports of snoopers.

Alistair was surprised. She actually seemed to calm but he could see her chest rise and fall with allowing anger, he could see her brain fighting with smart answers and hurtful replies.

“Who are you to summon me to Denerim”

_Don’t make me do this Liss.._

“You are no one to summon me to Denerim and neither are the fools you have surrounded yourself with. You will do good to remember that, I will never come when you call”

“I am your king do not forget that”

“I have no king I am a Grey. You do as _I_ say when _you_ are needed and _you_ should have no need of me before then. Don’t worry I will come calling on _you_ when there is need”

“You are a Tyrna you said so yourself when you arrived”

“Only to the people of this place. Not to you”

“You have a small army Elissa, if I am not your king then what will you do with this army? You walk them up and down the free marches and reports have been brought to me of you whispering in the peoples ears, what is this of Vigils Keep. Did you burn the treasury down?” his temper was fraying and she had successfully goaded him into showing his teeth.

She paused, toying with a smile. She did it alright.

“Spying on me now, your majesty?” she bit back eventually, finally blinking and washing away some of that dry fury and smile. Alistair found relief in that although the sting of her uttering his title still hung around him. On reflection he would rather not be her king.

He watched as she turned away and gathered up a robe that was lying over a nearby chair.

“I wonder which spy that would be, Leliana Perhaps? Or that Pirate whore you spent a few months with? I’m sure she was very accommodating to your needs. Tell me…” she paused to look up at him and see if her words had hit home, they had. “I wonder if that’s where all the money your people needed was spent. They go hungry…you go on a cruise?” She knew more than him it would appear. She knew he had ventured out but he wondered if she knew why. He wanted nothing more than to tell her but he doubted she would care. He took the moment to inhale deeply and cast his eyes up to the maker; he glanced around the sombre looking room. Its only inhabitants were a single bed, a sturdy chair and a writing desk with a further chair behind it. Sparse indeed but nothing else could warm this room. She had made it some form of prison and the heaviness on his heart grew. He must see this through he wasn’t going to be baited into a war of words with her and ignored her comments making sure to start a new thread of conversation.

He had planned to start by asking her how she was…but that was obvious. He never saw this for her. He never saw her counting away the hours in her own man-made tower. It reminded him of a story he had heard when he was a child. The princess in the tower who was rescued by her knight in shining armour? That was supposed to be him…it should have been him. He abandoned her. _I had to…_

He pulled up the only other chair in the room and positioned it in silence away from her all-knowing glare. Now that her Steward had dismissed himself it was just the two of them and her hateful stabbing eyes. They were still that wondrous shade of blue full of disbelief and unanswerable questions, still able to reflect his betrayal back at her.

More hate.

“Fifty-two successful joining’s and a legion to be posted in Orzammer.” She spoke jilting him from his daydream of guilt. She was calmer but yet cold; distant.

“Fifty-two? Maker! will there be much for them to do?” he laughed the last point off awkwardly. Why was their so many when there was no blight? He saw a quick flash of surprise on her face but it was gone quickly.

“You never know when we may be needed, Darkspawn don’t just die after the blight your Majesty. You should know that. You feel them, yes?” she replied with a hint of Magniloquence in her tone reminding him that he was a Grey before a king. _I feel them, yes by the maker, I feel them but you are lying Elissa.._

His eyes wondered with his thoughts to a sculpted thigh peeking out of her robe and snapped abruptly back again once she noticed.

Silence. Another stand off.

She always stood her ground and always seemed lucky enough to be right almost all of the time, encouraging others to carry on for what they believe. Until now he had admired that quality and tried to stamp it into himself as a good sign of leadership, but now he saw just anger. He actually didn’t know what he wanted to see from her. He wondered if he had arrived and he found that she wasn’t angry with him, would that have hurt more. To know that she no longer cared for him anymore? That he had not affected her as she had him all this time, that she hadn’t felt the loss of him deeply and to her very core that she would take on armies by herself to try and forget him? To play with his people’s futures and pockets so that he didn’t think about her for one second of the day? Yes she hates him alright and she has worn that hate like a badge of honour in everything she has done since he sent her away. The look of betrayal and abandonment in her blue eyes was in his mind day after day, hour after hour. Her eyes masked by pools of unshod tears as she tried and failed to stay strong as he dismissed her that day. She defeated an Archdemon and didn’t cry once for the damage it did to her but when he finished her she wept silently and Alistair stood there watching her until she was satisfied he wasn’t going to say another word. Every promise he ever made her out of love shredded and reduced to the explanation of a boy who was only infatuated with a new toy. The kingdom and power that came with it would be his future now and not her. They were each other’s first and he let her think that was all she was to him. The lies rotted his soul as he spoke them, there was no other possible way that he could have told her to go, she would not have and he made a promise to send her away even if he broke her in doing so. The decisions they made in the past would have come back to ruin them so surely it was best to save her now? What if he had arrived in Highever and seen her with another, married? Perhaps she would have been with child? The thought made him bolt upright on to his feet without him knowing. The uncomfortable feeling this thought brought made him nauseous.

She stared at him suspiciously but still didn’t give an inch towards him.

At least, he thought positively, by turning up like this she didn’t have the chance to decline him an audience. She was well within her rights as Warden Commander to do so but the thought of explaining that one to her dwindling fans at court worried him especially when he knew she would be here by intercepting her crows. Her refusal to comply with any demands or requests was rapidly placing her as a threat, although Alistair thought the idea hilarious  _Elissa loves Ferelden more than anyone I know_. She placed herself behind the worn writing desk and Alistair moved over to stand in front, so this was the new tactic? Official stance it is then. With a push Alistair took a deep breath before, once again, he was made to play the king when he didn’t want to.

He did find it somewhat easier now; he was more knowledgeable and strict in his role as King since returning from Ath Velanis. He oversaw all decisions and reports. He took pride in a united and safe Ferelden after calming the storm between Mages and Templars but that meant nothing without her there to appraise and hold him, reassure him when he had doubt. He needed her there with him at the end, he wanted to show her off to his father when he had the chance to show him the woman who was everything to him. He needed her there when he set his father free into the fade but she wasn’t and that was his doing not hers. He was drowning in advisor’s and other men whose titles and job descriptions meant nothing to him. He did not want any of them or the solid band of ‘yes men’ that casually arrived at court to dip their daughters in front of him just in case he took a shine to any of them. He called this particular breed of noble the ‘Daughter Shepard’.

He knew he was running out of time before he had to take a wife p _erhaps this is why I am really here?_ There you go…he thought it. He had tried so hard to push that thought to the back of his mind to be lost amongst all the other junk he stored there from time to time. He wanted this visit to stay official, keep those feelings and emotions locked down. He thought of anything he could to get a conversation going.

“You mentioned Orzammer? This is a good idea; we always said they needed the support. I shall speak honestly when I say I don’t envy the men who take that short straw” he shuddered at the thought of the closed-in city of Dwarves

“All volunteers. It has become our front line, sire”

Ouch, there was that title again…

“And the Volunteers are from your numbers here?”

“No the Ten men will arrive there shortly on their own with orders, they are Greys with their true calling and wish to go…” She continued fully aware of her verbal stinger yet her face became blank, distant and resigned as she went on “Only one of the Greys here will venture to Orzammer”

“Brave fellow. I should like to meet him”

“You have your grace, I am that Warden”

Horror. Alistair, King of Ferelden felt pure horror. He had not had nightmares as bad as they should be for any Grey Warden to even mutter they were to go there especially since the conductor was stopped, so what was she thinking? She was not looking at him any longer but mindlessly shuffling random bits of paper on her desk

"As of tomorrow I will have resigned my position as Warden Commander and will take my place with the Legion in the Deep Roads.”

Breathing, all of a sudden became the hardest thing in the world.


	3. Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all who follow or review! I hope I do not disappoint you all as I continue. Thank You.

Nothing Alistair had to say would change her mind, it would just make her more willing to do it. He knew that so why was he wasting his time?

“Elissa, I forbid you to go”

She grunted her amusement at his petty attempt. She didn’t expect much from this man in front of her but she wondered who actually wore the trousers in his court. Pathetic images of him suddenly occurred to her.

“You forbid me to go?” She laughed manically. The rotten sound leaving her lips as she threw her head back so her gaze was anywhere other than at Alistair

“Don’t laugh at me, listen to me. I know things haven’t been, are not…” he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. Not the words that would make things worse but the right ones that could calm her. _Silly Chantry boy there were no such words._

Sweat started to form on his brow and he manically tried to speak. This infuriated her. Anything he had to say would lack meaning if he couldn’t just say it. He was probably used to someone else writing his words and she refused to listen to anything he was about to say, they were just staged words; he had rotted on that throne.

“…Good between us.” he continued. “I did something terrible to you and unforgivable, I get that but this is not the answer!” His face suddenly darkened and he stilled. The change in him was immediate as if something had suddenly occurred to him. Stiffer, stronger. Alistair was preparing an argument through anger now and he walked closer to her, locking eyes with her for his next statement “When was I to know about this Elissa?” he bit out “Tomorrow?”  He was getting even closer to her now, he knew the answer to his own questions and it enraged him, _Good, now you are in my world._ Her heart thundered as the space between them disappeared. He studied her face and features and realisation swayed over him as he closed his eyes briefly “No…no I was never meant to know was I?”

“Why would you need to know?”

“Stop it!” the words were an angry whisper as he now stood in front of her glaring down at her. She steeled her stare back at him as she had no intention of stopping: She was enjoying it.

“A letter was dispatched to Weisshaput yesterday and one also to your chancellor in Denerim. If you had been there, my lord, you would have known. I cannot be blamed for that.”

She revelled in his fury but hated his closeness, she could smell his scent and it made her weak. _He will not do this to me! Step back…move away…_

“You yourself told me that when a warden’s nightmares get so bad they know that the time has come and they would leave for the deep roads.” Silence descended, Alistair looked down at her in horror and she smirked up at him throwing the first real words he had ever spoken to her in Ostagar back at him as a weapon. She huffed a strand of hair from her face and placed a delicate hand on her hip as she turned her back on him gracefully returning to her desk. “You were not very specific about the contents of the nightmare, your Majesty” She was pleased with her answer and could feel by the atmosphere in the room that she had wounded him. She heard a terrific noise from behind her, something heavy was being punished for her disrespect. As she turned quickly she saw Alistair standing in the centre of the room with his hands clenching and unclenching, the remains of her rocking chair in a pile by the door.

“BY THE MAKER, ELISSA! ITS ALISTAIR!” he erupted before her eyes and she saw briefly the passion that was missing from the grey man who was intruding in her chambers. He used to be so full of colour and justice now he just sat in his rich palace eating cheese and shagging maids. I bet he is just upset that his favourite slippers were left behind.  _He will calm down in a minute and bugger of back to them_ , she thought;  _stay strong just a little longer_.

She watched him as he struggled to calm himself “My name is Alistair” he repeated, a calming mantra in his words. For him, of course Elissa had no intentions of calming down. She was just getting started.

“I think not” she replied watching him closely as he snapped his head up at her words. “Excuse me?” he said wondering where this new line of verbal torture was going? He was becoming frustrated once more and she could feel his restraint ebbing away. _Good, maybe then he will stop being such a puppet and grow a pair_.

“I knew Alistair, you? I am not sure who you are. Now if you do not mind I have arrangements to make”

She felt herself begin to waver as he ignored her and stood there in silence. The silence was killing her. It was worse than all the talking; everything that needed to be said was not being said. _Get out! Get out! Just a little longer, stay strong woman…don’t cry!_

“You’re being ridiculous Elissa. You are not going anywhere. You are needed…” desperate man, she thought “…you are needed here!” he finally stuttered out as he stood straight again his composure restored vexing her more.

“I have done all I can here and the deep roads is where I am headed so do not lay that at my feet. Read the report I’ve sent your minions, you will see. You will be nice and safe in Denerim don’t worry, I find it more difficult than some to let others down”

_Damn it a tear; go back up, not yet!_

“What are you doing here anyway?” she continued, she was on a particularly mean roll. Her anger at her lapse of emotion in front of him guided her to where she wasn’t sure she wanted to go, but go she did anyway “Errand boy on your job description now? Your lap dogs downstairs are here for reports so why are you really here? Was it to get a good look if the rumours of just how pitiful my existence is, are true? Are you now satisfied that I’m a total miserable wreck? Get a good look? Or maybe, maybe you’re a little frustrated that I’m still ambling along eh? Still alive and a thorn in your precious courts side?”

“Elissa, no…never, how could you even…”

“Here to finish off the job, are we?”

She manically ran to where her rackety bed stood and dived underneath. She hunched back on her heels and brought an old iron chest along with her. She ripped at the lock and furiously tossed the old lid back. She drew a small dagger from its sheath and wiped the blade on her robe as she flashed back around, tears now streaming down her face. The mud and road dirt from her long journey now mixed with the salty water that tried to wash it away. Her now pale, dirty and angry face showed how her heart was trying its hardest to keep beating. It just wanted to disintegrate and wither away. Hanging on by a lose thread all these years had damaged it and no magic in the world could patch it up any longer. The Deep roads called to her even louder, enticing her with peace, sleep and an eternal end to her pain.

“There take it…do it!” she thrust the dagger into Alistair’s now trembling hand. As she touched his skin she was jolted with more unwelcome happy memories. The memories that this tyrant before her had thoughtlessly ripped away and torn into shreds because of his need for personal growth, riches and power. She hated him, loved him… _no_ …. _no_ …she didn’t anymore, she couldn’t. She ripped back her robes and bared her chest to him bringing up the hand that held the dagger and pointing its tip over where her heart used to live, the blade drew a trickle of blood and Alistair let out a horrified gasp, his eyes now reddened and wet, staring as the blood travelled down. She felt his resistance under her firm grasp but she held on tighter to his hand.

“Stop it Liss, Please…” he whispered his pleading words to her and she began to crumble.

“DO IT COWARD!” she yelled at him her voice strained with holding back the tears too long. The lump that had grown in her throat released itself as her fury poured out.

“Cut out my heart and stick it in the trophy counter with all your other triumphs. Cailan’s helm, got what you wanted there didn’t you? Duncan’s shield, I am sure he would be so proud of you. Perhaps a bouquet of constantly stocked shitty roses, one for each of the schmucks who fell for them? And finally the piece you will all be laughing over, my heart, broken black and useless. Go ahead, it won’t hurt me, it doesn’t even beat anymore…it’s this or the deep roads, you choose mighty king of sodding Ferelden…DO IT!”

She looked deep into his eyes and saw the horror reflected back at her. What was she doing? This wasn’t who she was. It was what he had made.

Not like this Elissa.

She calmed herself and looked up at him. He looked afraid, ashamed and unsure what to do. Her own rage disappeared as quickly as it had come only to be replaced with realisation and relief, she truly was ready.

Alistair looked straight at her and into her eyes. As she stared back at him she saw a single tear journey down from his eye and along his cheek. He blinked slowly and shook his head downwards as he continued to weep. She released the grip she had on his hand and stepped backwards as the dagger dropped from his hands and onto the floor.

His trembling hand reached slowly out for her cheek as he wept silently, she pulled back and he tried to open his mouth to speak but words would not come. His body crouched over and she turned her own head towards the one window in the pitiful room she called home. Her breathing became jagged and rusted. As she reached the window ledge she gripped tightly on to it and released the latch that held the window closed. The winter night rushed in and blew the papers on her desk far into the corners of the room. Her robe bellowed behind her now as she heard the faint dying sounds of revelry coming to a close. Water furiously flushed from her eyes as her silent stare gazed across the Highever valleys in the distance. The view rocked her body with reassurance as her knees finally buckled whilst the door opened and closed behind her.

“Yes, go…no-one needs you here” she muttered to herself with a shiver as she realised that for the first time in four years, she had just lied to herself.


	4. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the last chapter was so fuelled anything that would try and follow would seem slow so apologies. Clangers and tid-bits are galore in chapter four! But thanks once again for all the reviews and pointers; it helps me do this better.

_Elissa drink and trust me_

_Forget…_

_This will hurt but you are stronger than you think…_

_Hold still_

_Sleep_

_Forget_

**“Warden…come on woman…wakey wakey…there you go!”**

Elissa awoke and found herself dripping with water and wrapped up in a rug on the floor. The heat of a new fire crackled away beside her in the fireplace and her bones ached as if she had sparred with a training dummy non stop for weeks. A feint growl in her ears became louder as her head began to work.

“Morning sleepy Breeches. Had quite a little soirée here didn’t ‘ya? Always was a feisty one”

She cracked her neck whilst trying to get her eyes into focus. The first thought to enter her head was absurd yet she tested the waters anyway “Oghren?”

“Who else? Get your ass in gear girl, if you ‘wanna leave without a fuss I suggest we leave five minutes ago. There is a small council of not to happy Warden type people pacing about outside. Well when I say council I mean one bloke with the same look a scared Mudsplasher has on his face”

“Leave? Go where…wait what are you doing here? Felsi..Bria…are they OK?”

“All well and counted for lass, Nugget just culled her first Nug before I left on business. I’m on my way back and I can drop you off at Orzammer you fool…now up, pull yourself together and shake yourself down. Your man outside has all your gear, wouldn’t give it to me so I sat him on a stool outside and told him to bring up a keg and I would bring you around. Got to tell you lady, the way that boy ran out of here woooooo…like death herself was whipping him on”

“The Mudsplasher?” she said as she rubbed her head slowly. It felt heavy and tender.

“Alistair!”

A loud belch echoed around the small room breaking the tension that name was about to bring.

“Maker, Oghren…are you drunk? And how did you know about Orzammer? And I repeat, what by Andraste are you doing here?”

Oghren looked at her with a sudden look of confusion. He stared at her for a few moments as if she should have been able to answer her own questions and when she growled at him he continued to pile the remainders of the rocking chair onto the fire, much to Elissa’s ire.

“Spit it out you disgrace of a Kondrat.” She said toying with her mouth to get rid of an awful taste of what felt like sand and tar.

“Well, I arrived with your boy kings band. So, I take it the mess I just cleared up wasn’t from long overdue make-up sex, warden?” he huffed in amusement as he started to stamp the fire out with his heavily plated boots. He didn’t need to look to see what her face was doing, he shrugged and grunted as she was clearly not making this as much fun as it should be “Well the short of it was that I was off to the mages tower to pick up an overdue stray and take it home. I came across 'old blusher’ along the Banns Cross and he suggested a trip to you would be advantageous, I think he meant your beer cellars. Needless to say that after he arrived that night everyone in the castle and their dog knew about your Deep Roads death wish. So like I said, if you wanna leave without any sodding fuss…move 'ya arse”

“Wait…that night?” her senses were getting a grip finally as the odd statement caught her ears.

“Yep…that was two nights ago. You have been asleep for two days you lazy scoundrel. Your Steward tried to wake you but when we saw no signs of anything but exhaustion I suggested we leave you where you felt comfortable…the floor” His bellow of a laugh hit every wall and bounced back onto another. It rang out so loud that Elissa winced and considered vomiting. She didn’t remember drinking but she felt like she had drunk her weight in mead.

She gave herself a moment to take the last five minutes in as she stood and held the blanket around her closely. She looked down at the dirt still embedded in her fingernails and grimaced; she hadn’t even made it to the bath. She remembered watching the king’s party leave in a rush just after Alistair slid out of the room last night, and then…. _nothing?_

Oghren pulled his belt up and took a deep breath. He seemed to be pleased with himself and had the beam of a housewife on his cheeks after waking the children and packing them off for schooling. She smiled at the comparison and her face hurt. It literally hurt to laugh. What on earth did she do to herself last night? She walked over to where she had left the under-chest the previous night and rooted around for a mirror. She gave her face a good look and noticed several small bruises around the cheeks and mouth. She didn’t remember anything that would explain that. She did remember the whole dagger incident but when she searched her chest for any damage she was surprised to see none, she could have sworn it drew blood. Oghren broke her concentration with an even larger burp, to which her frown spoke volumes.

“Right, I’ll be outside. You make sure you are too in five minutes. I have all we need. Oh and another thing…” He held himself straight and cocked his head to an angle so that he could get a good look at her eyes “…I shall ask you once and then never again. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She nodded and immediately ushered with her head for him to get lost. He closed the door and she felt herself let go of everything with a large sigh. Two days? She wondered, _I was_ … _must have been more tired than I thought…Alistair_.

The ache in her heart suddenly returned.

“SHES ALIVE!” she heard Oghren shout in mock jubilation as he shut the door.

                                            **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

“I am sorry, but I just don’t understand. Orzammer needs you? Give me an hour and I will accompany you Commander. Please don’t steal away like this.“

"I am not your Commander anymore Nerith.” Elissa tossed a clean-fleeced blanket over her mount and returned to the stables for her saddle.

Nerith was not listening. He toyed with the several envelopes Elissa had just given him. One for each Grey Warden big wig that would no doubt, demand an explanation.

Nerith was her newly appointed second in command and not too happy about stepping up or her leaving Highever. “I would just like to know when this decision was made. Does it have anything to do with Alistair Theirin being here? Because you know they have no input into Warden affairs. Elissa…" he suddenly gasped and his face filled with pure horror, for a moment she thought something terrible may actually occur from her actions “…what will Weisshaupt say? Elissa, the First Warden will be furious.”

She could literally see the man go white, well whiter than normal. He was a tremendous warrior but amazingly timid when it came to sticking to rules and the consequences. He was a devout and religious man for fear the maker would turn up at his door and punish him for forgetting a chant or dedication. She once had to turn a patrol of men around and head for the nearest chantry so that he could finish his absolutions correctly.

“I…I just don’t see the sense in any of this. Your men will not take this well; they will never take orders from anyone other than you…they think I’m weak and scared compared to you. Oh my, speeches I will have to make speeches, rallying calls…Oh, please don’t go.”

She stopped as she did the final buckle on her saddle. She took a deep breath and turned to Nerith with a warm smile. She liked Nerith and had picked him from the others that morning to be her second. Some had thought it a joke as he was not leadership material but something in him on the battlefield was calm, calculating and courageous, more than she has seen in any of the others. He would lay down his life for anyone who could do the job better than him and in some ways this was his curse as well as his gift. But this was his journey now and his adventure. She wanted to make him see how this would be good for him and how it had made her the person she was today.

 **“LETS MOVE IT, WARDEN!”** Oghren bellowed from the gates **“TELL THE NUG TO PUT HIS HANDS DOWN HIS BREECHES AND FIND HIS ROCKS…WE ARE LOSING DAYLIGHT!”**

Nerith blushed and Elissa held back a wish to laugh. Oghren never had timing or patience; it seemed she wasn’t the only one who wanted to get it over with.

“Nerith, all will be well. Steel yourself because something is coming do you understand? I must take care of it from Orzammer. Peduaor And Donalgh may pass through here, You will tell them where I am and only her. do you understand Nerith?”

He nodded back to her in silence, realisation settling in on his broad shoulders. She reassuringly reached out to his arm soothing him back to calm and giving him focus.

“Nerith, if you have never listened to anything I have ever said to you before…”

“I have listened to…”

“Nerith it’s a saying.” She whispered. Nerith was not the first man she had met who had been raised by the Chantry and was not surprised at his interruption and lack of humour and understanding.

“Oh…”

“If you have never listened to anything I have ever said to you before, than heed these words instead. Courage is doing what you’re afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you’re scared. Plus…”

She removed her hand from Nerith and made her way over to her horse hooking one leg on to a stirrup and hoisting her weight up until she sat comfortably. She gripped the reins and tugged them readying her mount to prepare for movement. “Plus…a replacement will be here within seven days and Arlan will be staying on as your advisor” She watched as his face lit up with huge relief.

She reared her horse around and made a final salute. A small stabbing pain gathered in her heart as she took one final glance at her childhood home and the Wardens she had recruited, trained and brought through the joining.

“Goodbye my brothers…until the maker brings us together again” she whispered to herself then with a final push she remembered the true Highever,  _Goodbye for now to you too mother, father and brother. I shall see thee soon enough._

She sat up in her saddle and shouted back at Nerith over her shoulder as she trotted off and away through the gates

**“Farewell Nerith of the Grey. In war may you find victory, in peace vigilance and in death…sacrifice.”**

“And you Commander” he shouted back but she was already gone.

          **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Up on a distant hill top a hooded figure materialised from the low winter clouds and planted its staff into the ground beside them. As the form crouched down wrapping its cloak tighter against the chilling wind a large black crow landed on the staffs tip. Two pairs of keen eyes now watched as the dwarf and the female human left the confines of Highever.

“Ride forward Elissa Cousland and we shall meet soon; you will hear my words as I spoke to thee this night eve. Remember when all is dark and the webbings of my wilds protect thee, sister…I shall return.” The shadow shook its staff lightly and with silent understanding the crow cawed loudly whilst leaping into the sky and away atop the two travellers on their way to Orzammer.

The hooded figure retreated back into its clouded shadow, for now. Waiting for nightfall to descend upon Ferelden and Elissa Cousland.


	5. Anew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for helping me and the characters reach chapter 5 and thank you for welcoming my work on Archive, Hope you enjoy!

It felt good to be on the road again. Oghren made a somewhat more silent change in company due to the fact that half the time he was asleep on his mount but it gave Elissa time to contemplate the events of what had turned out to be a strange and emotional turn of events. It was good to ride without the beat of a solemn drum pushing you on and the random ranted blessing of the Chantry smoking you out of any peace you may be lucky enough to find as they waved their censers up and down around your horse or nose. She finally felt she could breathe more soundly and she took the chance to think about the events of the past few days.

The journey from here was going to be final. There was no coming back from what she had planned. Someone had to seal the infested pit of fake Wardens in its own cell and she was going to be the lock that did that.  The wardens were not going to air anymore dirty laundry in public and they would take care of this matter themselves.

She found that her plan for peace, as she called it, was slowly starting to feel wrong. Brief pangs of guilt at leaving the order that literally saved her life seeped in but she no longer felt she could do what they asked of her, she had only one mission and this was it. The truth is that the years that had passed her by and out of its wake had come realisation. On a number of occasions she left it late to draw her weapons from their sheaths. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. How easy would it be to just have it finish now? All this thinking, sadness and feeling of heavy darkness that multiplied by the day around her withering heart would be gone. The intense feeling of belonging to her own death seemed to grope at her soul at every quiet moment and that was where Orzammer was welcomed as a useful ending point to this journey. The minutes riding silently across this beautiful winter-stroked land ticked by and she realised that there was a slight chance things could change. She suddenly felt like a coward and she gripped the reins tighter pushing her steed on.

She had not abandoned them, she told herself. _This is all for them_. She had given instructions to Weisshaupt in what needed to be done and when. It was the final declaration of her title that she planned the defensive strategy from Highever itself. She was taking over the small legion of men who volunteered to stay the Dark Spawn at their roots. They would not hold for long, but long enough to equip and prepare Ferelden better than four years ago with a front line of noble men and filthy Orlesian liars. She was not taking the easy way out and she had no intention of going without a fight, but sooner or later there would be no healer standing to heal her and she was prepared for this. She welcomed it.

And that led her train of thought nicely on to Alistair.

She cringed and screwed her eyes tight together as if that would help remove the onslaught of images and memories his name always conjured up. Why had he been at Highever? She couldn’t shake the feeling she had when she had heard his voice, the shortening of her name that only he did. She would often remind him that if her mother had ever heard him shortening her name, she would be furious, as she had gone to a lot of trouble picking a name that couldn’t be clipped down and he would remind her that ‘Elissa’ was easy to shorten.

She remembered the flash of images that his voice conjured up and she cursed him under her breath. The hardening of her heart started to shrivel up again, clutching desperately onto the misery that it had become. She felt the vile and venom for him creep up from her stomach but she felt like she was fighting it this time. She thought of him and for a moment all sounds of the world left her and she was left with one single image of him.

DAMN HIM she silently raged, it would have been simple and clean if he had just not been there at all. She was finally doing what she needed to do and cutting herself off from everyone who was left in her life was the hardest step of that plan.

She intended to just drop her things off, re-stock bathe and leave. She didn’t want to get into any deep soul searching and verbal ex-foliations. She shook off the illogical thinking behind him being there as a sign, yet she had to admit she felt somewhat lighter since that night. She even felt some remorse at her actions. She had caught herself thinking about apologies and explanations but then the events of his betrayal swirled around her thoughts once more, clinging on to the roots and turning them black.

 _“Its best, Liss…For Ferelden…Its not what I want that matters anymore, surely you see that?_ ”

She hated to admit it but that memory echoed through her mind more than any other and this had made her a bitter and cold woman.

They were the same age of 30 years and had both been through so much. Time would indeed take its toll on him, but she ruefully hated how he had faired better then her. What must he had thought when he saw the filthy march bound scrap of a woman in front of him, maybe she hadn’t changed as much as she thought and that was where the lack of appeal had come from? he had probably realised along with everyone else who knew her that this was who she was. She was not fancy or dress bound and she couldn’t glisten like him. His once shortly cropped Standard Templar issue hair was now considerably longer touching the tip of his shoulders with thick dirty-blond waves and she had to admit it was a welcoming far cry from the frilly posers in Orlais society securely stamping him as ‘Made in Ferlden’. He also had now taking to wearing a slight beard which was more whiskers then growth in honesty but showed every age of his Theirin gene pool. His stance and demeanour was regal and straight and his lack of answers that night were almost reserved; it was usually him that berated her when he felt he disagreed with a decision or chosen path, he never had any trouble holding back before. He had never heard her talk with such venom or speak with her twisted heart in her mouth. He would always rely on her to be in control and solid…not deranged, suicidal or vicious. Last night he just couldn’t answer any of the accusations she placed at his feet, he had no answer that could have possibly appeased her with but he stayed and took it all and then some…and then there was the dagger incident…she shuddered when she recalled all the events of that night as she also realised; it was Duncan’s dagger. She could have slapped herself.

_Oh Elissa, be safe in the knowledge that you will now be remembered as such a witch._

Why did she care how it must have felt to him now? The horror she saw in his eyes as he wept before he left, reaching out for her refused cheek… his soft touch used to make all the pain fade away. Maybe she should have let him? Why was she allowing herself to think like this again, it only left her with more aching and tears, she must stop!

The one thing that had kept her warm, safe and strong over these last four years was her hatred and she relied on it to keep her breathing. Whenever she felt she couldn’t fight on any longer, her hatred would kick in and make her slash down everything that stood before her. She wanted to retreat back to her safe haven but she couldn’t explain how it seemed to be missing somehow, she was frightened that along with that her will to see this all through would recede also. She shook her head in defiance and took the fresh white air clear in through her lungs.

She could hear Oghren snuffle and grunt ahead of her waking himself up from an unplanned nap, wobbling on his saddle as he remembered he wasn’t in a bed but on a horse.

She couldn’t help but smile at the spectacle in front of her but her thoughts soon returned to brooding on her lack of seething hatred. Maybe, maybe this was because of her decision to go to Orzammer, she thought on. Maybe this was closure for the tightly knotted and shameful feelings of self-loathing and pity? Was this the freedom that she was so certain she would feel after making her mind up to travel there? It was starting to make sense and if she was to have any doubt about her journey, it disappeared. It felt good to be finally free, she could feel the wind around her and it actually made a tingle as it touched her skin, she could feel it, she didn’t remember the last time any element had made her feel anything so fresh as it did then.

For so long only two forms of existence had been a part of her life, fighting and eating. If she had got away with being able to fight without eating she would have done that. So cold a life she led, distant and black not letting anyone in or near, trusting few and helping only herself.

But now, now she was back on the road and it felt good to travel with a purpose she believed in. Of course she had wanted the same end goals as the Grey Wardens she had called family but it was not the same anymore. Things were different back then, all she had to do was break a few skulls so that people would listen and realise they must stop an arch demon.

She admitted to herself long ago that she actually found it fun. Being on the road for Ferelden’s salvation with a small and unlikely band of like-minded warriors that vastly became like kin. The moments they all shared, quick-witted replies, exchanging trusting stories and getting to know new lands and how others’ lives were not that different from hers. Of course, there was those special and perfect nights together under the stars.

_“ That one there, is Brina. The Elves say she watches over all the Halla in the land and Shepard’s them safely each night. And that star there, the one up there that shines the brightest, is the most beautiful star in all existence. The god that protects that star does so with his very existence and is by far the most revered. It’s my favourite star you know. I always know that if I can see it I’m safe and no harm will come to me.” He looked at the sky as if it was alive._

_“That’s a powerful star indeed, Alistair. It a dangerous thing to have floating out there on its own, mixing with the other stars” She mocked as he turned to her and gazed in her eyes the same way he did the night sky above_

_“Ah, yes but the one who watches over her, watches her well, loving her and keeping her safe, she shines only for him…and he wants to keep it that way” he leaned over and kissed her deeply cupping his strong splintered hands behind her head summoning her closer and holding her tightly to him._

_“I want you Elissa…and I will for all time. Here, this exact spot will be where I build a home for us with my own clumsy hands.” Elissa pulled away from him and tumbled backwards bursting with laughter “Just you see, Cousland, just you see” he smiled as he followed her down to the ground for more kisses._

_“Now say it with me” he tickled playfully as she struggled in vain to free herself laughing heartily “Say it with me ‘Liss…My Name is Elissa…” a short tender kiss to her brow  “…Theirin. see how that sounds?”  
_

“Elissa Theirin” she repeated out aloud jogging her attention back to the snowy trail she was on. A quick check ahead of her assured her Oghren was oblivious to her temporary lack of judgement in recalling banned memories.

That painful memory was deep and hidden and she had taken great pains to make it so, why was it back? She had come across an apostate when she first left Highever all those years ago and he locked it away for her but now it was unlocked and free in her thoughts to cause more harm. She didn’t want it there, she didn’t want him there. She was a fool then, she was weak she couldn’t afford to be that person again, not now.

He was everything she dreamt of as a young girl, everything she wanted for herself in life. It had taken her a while to know it but when she finally realised how she felt for Alistair there was no going back. The sneaking glances they would find each other giving as they briefly met each other’s eyes, the accidental touching of hands or preference to bed-roll layouts and what things made the other smile the way they went weak at the knees for.

The brief times they were apart they slowly became withdrawn and full of longing for the other and they would both take separate watches so that they could find things that held the same earthly scent as the other.

When they did defy their restraints and finally allow real touching and talking they released their inner most feelings and secrets to each other. Alistair unburdened his feelings on Duncan and his upbringing to her and revelled in her warmth and encouraging answers. She would tell him of her family and her childhood and he would bring her to him and hold her until she awoke, wiping away tears with the back of his warm and caring hands. Together they found that they were slipping away from the others and building a separate world of their own to do what they really wanted to do. He longed to touch her and please her in ways that would make her his forever and she wanted to feel his warmth all over her night after night.

He would protect her and worry if he couldn’t see her, insisting that he be by her side at all hours of the day, he would feel harsh jealousy if another man saddled next to her or looked in her general direction.

To her it was always Elissa and Alistair, never changing sides or places. The others would stay at camp or accompany them but it was always them together. Leading the charge at whatever Ferelden threw at them.

They would both pale and cower away if ever they thought of a life without each other and by the time the decision needed to be made at the landsmeet, he had begged her not to split them apart. If he were to become king then she would be his queen. This sounded fine at first until the nobles realised an heir would never be brought into the Theirin line. It would die with Alistair and after the then warring nobility, this could never happen. So they shrugged and declined. Let the nobles do it. Let them have the burden, we will simply defend Ferelden with our dying breath…together.

How could it have changed so quickly? She couldn’t believe that same man who named stars after her and talked of what their house would look like could be the same man who tossed their, her, dreams away with a single title offer? What had they offered him that could have been better?

 **Enough Elissa** , she demanded to herself she was desperate to not have those old black feelings return. She realised that her insides had started to boil and her mind was becoming clogged with emotions again. More tears threatened to stray and betray her. But she let it linger a little longer just so that she knew why she was going to meet her true destiny at the end of a particularly nasty tunnel in the deep roads of Orzammer. The destiny she was obviously always meant to really have.

She looked up from her melancholy when she heard tiny voices and the clank of a distant smithies anvil and realised they had trotted into a small village, she looked around for Oghren to see if she had followed him there and was slightly relived to see him struggling to get off his huge mount, much to the amusement of two drunken merchants.

Chickens clucked around her horse’s hooves and a small boy appeared holding out his hand to her offering his services as horse watcher for a few small coins. She smiled as she dismounted and reached into her purse.

“This horse here is a Highever Grey, do you know what that means?” she asked the small freckled person grinning a toothless smile at her. He had no idea.

“It means that she needs extra special protection, a bed for the night and some fresh apples…can you do that for me. It’s worth three gold?”

The small boy gawped at the amount of money and hurriedly bobbed his head in acceptance. She smiled and offered him the reins as she looked around for where Oghren had wandered off. She didn’t have to guess for long as she heard the raucous laughter that came from a nearby tavern.

She strutted over to the tavern doors, closing her purse and looking over her shoulder to watch the small lad try and encourage a huge horse to follow him to a nearby orchid. She turned and gave a light whistle to which the horse immediately released its stubborn stance and relaxed in the care of the now grateful scamp that commanded the reigns. The doors behind her opened and the smell of stale beer, stale men and stale cheese wafted out and over her shoulders intertwining with crude songs and women’s laughter.

Oh well, she thought with a sudden rush of excitement…I have never had the pleasure of getting completely rat arsed. Now is probably the best time.

                                            **U:U:U:U:U:U:**

“And so the demon fell, twisting its head to the fade in which we made it call home once more…” she smiled, pleased with her drunken dramatic prose.

It had been several hours since Elissa and Oghren had ventured into the 'Wombled Wagon’ of The Village Tannorn.

“Ohhhhhhhh” came a chorus of equally drunken voices. Not understanding as well as their vocal pitches might interpret. “The hero of Ferelden!” they shouted and the wooden mugs would be sloshed together in the air for the nineteenth time that evening. It seemed to be the toast of the day, or one that anyone could still remember. There was one about the three-legged chicken…the milking maid of Orlais and the welcome death of a small unattractive debt collector.

Elissa felt woozy but warm, the ale tasted like rotten cauliflower but it burnt away the webbings of her burdened mind. Why had she never done this before? It felt fantastic nothing else mattered to her at this point in time. She had made several new friends become godmother to three children and spent her purse on brew for the village. Elissa had never drunk more than one mug of ale or mead in any one tavern sitting before today. She always felt that it distracted you from whatever took you that way in the first place. If she was lucky enough to not be in a camp she had stayed in a few taverns or eaten in them but never touching the frothy brew that was mass produced and dished out like dishwater. She now felt that perhaps the occasional tipple wasn’t actually that bad; of course that occasional tipple she had allowed herself that afternoon had turned into a beerfest and her head was not used to such a mixture of hops and honey. She looked down at the worn wooden table before her and began counting the Mugs and Tankards of Mead and Ale she had lined up to consume not caring how tomorrow would view the decision to have them.

Oghren was having a rather heated discussion with two men that sat either side of him. Elissa noticed that Oghren was the only one who looked unbothered and just held his ale mug in his hands perplexed by the emptiness of it. He was sitting two tables across from her and his nose was the brightest red, she wanted to reach over and squeeze it. She perhaps may have done that if a fist hadn’t reached it before her. As Oghren fell backwards his stumpy legs plummeted into the air and Elissa burst out laughing.

“You come into our village, our tavern? Drink your weight and insult our women? I shall show you cave dwellers what we do to shite housed Dwarves in our lands”

A huge peasant loomed over the still form of Oghren he fists balled into hammers by his side and spit etched out of his mouth as his own words rallied him up for a fight he would lose. He nodded to his friend, a burly red headed creature who joined his comrade in shouting expletives at a fallen dwarf. This nicked at Elissa and she tried to stand. Maker, her feet felt like lead and her head like a cotton field. She laughed as she swallowed down the remnants of a particularly lethal mix of mead and clapped with excitement as the people around her doubled before her eyes. There was now two of everyone, _what magic is this mead?_ She asked herself…I must have some more. All these years she had thought Oghren silly to depend most of his waking days on this beverage but now she understood fully…he must have missed his Branka so much. She pursed her lips together in a mooing motion and pouted a drunken term of sympathy towards her sour friend. She clambered over the people who sat beside her burping apologies to those she stood on.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, friend” she slurred as she tried in vain to pull her daggers from her back holdall.

The pair looked at her and then at each other. They turned back to her and threw their heads back with laughter. “Oh…is that right? You even know how to use one of those girly? Big pointy bad things they are…wouldn’t want to break a nail my sweet” they continued to laugh as the crowd behind them started to disperse. Obviously the two men had no clue as to whom they were talking, but the patrons did and they were not going to stand around to see it. Elissa also wondered as she turned clumsily around

“Heyyyyy where you all going?” she belched and rushed her fingers to her mouth. Her cheeks blushed and she giggled like an embarrassed maiden with two gleaming daggers hanging from her paws. She took a few more steps closer to the two “where’s the music gone?” she randomly asked?

“Right here my lady” the oaf answered with a filthy laugh adjoined to it.

There had been no music.

“Now, I believe you will apologise to my friend or this will get HIC ugly” She tossed her daggers to the side and brought her fists up in a jockeying stance. “Let’s settle this the old fashioned way shall we?” The two men now stood in complete stunned silence. What was this woman thinking, she was inebriated beyond belief and now challenged them like a male? She must have looked a disgrace. One of the men patted to his lap as he approached her “Come on now, love…why don’t you calm down and come pour me a drink. We can cuddle up and forget about this nasty business and I will show you how to use my sword, eh?” The other man guffawed a lewd and knowing sound and rubbed at his tummy whilst licking his lips. He was obviously up for a bit of cuddling and sword fighting too.

“You don’t want to hurt us now my little minx do you?” they patronised her further as she dropped her fists. “Oh I won’t hurt you…” she said wiping the back of her mouth with her hand wondering why no one was standing still. The world seemed to sway before her and she felt queasy. “…He will though.” She managed to utter as the two men turned to see whom she was talking about. Oghren stood behind them with two wooden tankards. He swung them directly into their groins and howled with jubilant satisfaction and victory as they came slowly crashing down to the floor, rolled up in individual balls of pain. Not wanting to leave it there quite yet he brought the heel of his boot down into the stomach of one man whilst the other tried to get up onto his knees. Elissa brought her own boot up to his stomach and he redoubled back in pain wincing on the floor beside his mate.

“Far from me to leave when it starts to get interesting, woman, but it seems I would rather have you save this for the deep roads then a grimy back alley dump like this…I think we better leave, warden” The Dwarf grunted and grabbed his companions daggers from the floor and shoved them into the hands of a giggling mess. Oghren navigated both Elissa and himself over the two bodies writhing in agony on the floor and on toward the Tavern doors, throwing them back he sucked in a harsh breath as the fresh air hit them both and attempted to sober the situation. Elissa burped and winced, the fresh air was not the best thing to come her way and she was rather wishing she could go back inside. As they stepped out they were faced with four more of the town’s folk who were not too particularly pleased to see their kinsmen doubled over in pain inside the tavern.

“By the ancestors, I would normally love to enjoy the hospitality you have brought me this evening and under normal circumstances I would take you up on a good old fashioned tavern brawl…but…I have previous engagements fella’s so if you wouldn’t mind” Said Oghren as he let go of Elissa’s elbow. The growing crowd showed no signs of backing down and as four quickly became ten Oghren smiled brightly and growled at his companion. “Well far be it from me to disappoint you all. Gear up missy and hold that mead in a little longer. We have one last dance to take care of…”

Elissa’s natural instinct kicked in and she gripped the daggers tightly as if someone was about to steal them. She toppled over a log and luckily swiped the knee of her oncoming assailant, crippling him out of the fight. She laughed at the silly sight of all. People were waving swords about and dancing, she made a mental note on how wondrous taverns were!

She heard a loud swoosh and a nick of the ear brought trickles of blood as she saw a freshly laid arrow in the hay beside her. She stood up rather perplexed and wobbled about as she hunted the owner of the arrow. “Now that was just rude, young lady! You could have had someone eye out with that!” she said as she placed her hands on her hips “Maker, I sound like my Nana!” she guffawed whilst still managing to expertly hurl a dagger directly into the reloading archer on the other side of the courtyard they now found themselves in. The small square began to hum and spin.

“Next?” she laughed out as another sword aimed for her left side; she instantly stepped forward and turned on her heel, catching the long sword in its lunge. Bringing her one dagger around she drove it into the back of the assailant. As he fell to the floor she placed her boot on his now dead back and tugged with all her drunken might to retrieve her one remaining weapon. She found her legs give way as she resisted the urge to release the nights drinking all over the floor. Oghren was finishing up behind her and as she thought of having a nap she felt a slight gust of wind that alerted her to a presence at her rear. She turned around to see a small rogue approaching her with daggers drawn, a smile on his face that seemed to turn into a grimace as blood started to trickle from the corners of his mouth.

The owner of the looming daggers in front of her was all poised and ready to strike but had suddenly gone perfectly still. He then slowly fell to his knees as a shining blade protruded though his stomach and then back out again. Elissa found this hilarious, as she didn’t have to move now; she had found a lovely place in which she wanted to lie down. She held on to her stomach and then placed her hands on to her knees panting and trying to keep the contents of her stomach in. She reached down to the wobbling floor with her hands trying to hold it still and lowered her knees down slowly, all the time laughing at how ridiculous this all was. She collapsed and rolled over as a blurred figure pulled his sword from the fallen rogue and stood over her cleaning off his sword on his cloak. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus them.

“oooooh I know someone who looks like you, he is as handsome as you but he is a villain!” she laughed as she wagged her finger at the stranger above her, she suddenly turned green. She lifted her head and it all came out, gushing lumps of green, yellow and orange all over the boots of the perfectly timed stranger “oooh is that carrot? I haven’t had any of those” she said before collapsing unconscious in a sodden mess on the gravelled floor.

“By the Maker, Oghren…when I said delay her, I didn’t mean take her on a pub crawl” said Alistair, shaking off the freshly churned vomit from his boot.


	6. Truth

_Elissa ran her hands hesitantly up and down her body as it glistened._

_She traced every step of her now smooth and perfect skin. The emotion welled at the base of her throat as she tried in vain to find every scar that had etched itself on to her body, but there were none. No scars, no burns, no evidence of poor make-do healing no reminder that she had lived the last five years at all and the feeling was overwhelming, just smooth and completely pain free skin. She was almost frightened to move in case it crumbled back to the battered one she wore before._

_She took a deep breath as she moved her eyes up and away from herself to take in her surroundings. The weight on her chest was gone also, to be able to breathe so easily and without pain added to the regret she felt when she realised she must be in the fade. As quick as the thought had occurred to her she hurriedly gazed upon a new unfolding surroundings, still building and erasing itself around her as though it was trying to be as perfect as her memory would allow. The Korcari Wilds she thought Why the Korcari Wilds?_

_She began to feel warm and snug, a slight cold feeling being replaced with familiarity and safety. A thin layer of her old trusty prowler mail attached and wrapped itself nicely around her curiosity and body; blossoming into an outfit she remembered all too well. A simple set of blood splattered Splint mail shimmered over her and the bold imprint of a single tear with two crossing spears stood out with bloodied pride. A sad smile touched at her trembling lips as her fingers traced over the small laurel wreaths that lived isolated in the middle, alone and destined to be swallowed up with each slice of a blade that it protected its wearer from._

_Her mind gripped at the sadness and twisted it into a need for answers. The clear and untainted air around her disappeared as a sudden growing green mist blackened the sun out as she ran her fingers quickly through the reeds and rushes that were beside her, wanting to see if they even felt the same as she remembered. She became engulfed in the fading memory as it whipped and collapsed around her. She dug her heels into the floor and planted herself squarely set reaching down for her daggers._

_Clever, no daggers or weapons eh?_

_“Show yourself demon…there will be no bargain so let’s get this over with”_

_Nothing_

_“I know what you are doing. Word in the news house taverns says I’m a suicidal wreck, right? Plum for the soul draining picking eh?”_

_Still nothing_

_“Uncharacteristically quiet I see…have at you Demon!”_

_Her eyes began to protectively dash lightly left and then right but there was no movement or even sound. Nothing. She prodded on further turning her body slightly as she went._

_“…Come now, don’t be shy”_

_“Shy? Hardly shy, things take time, Warden” A voice drifted out of the mist and around her senses, warming them with familiarity. Slowly a hooded figure started to appear and with every step  the vision became clearer to Elissas conscience._

_She shook her head in defiance._

_“Morrigan? HA! Nice try demon…I would have gone with my mother myself but I compliment you on originality, bold move.”_

_“It truly is I. And I don’t have time for your witty and pointless collection of banter. The annoying red head Chantry girl is trying to rouse you but Jarin is holding her back, listen well Elissa…”_

_“Oooooh I think not” she guffawed back now no longer impressed with the vision before her. Her build and manner relaxed as if she was waiting for something more challenging to arrive. The figure before her threw her hands down in a slight fit of frustration._

_“You are more like him than you think, it is annoying how so, always with the time wasting need for clarity. The dog had more sense than the pair of you I often wondered why I bothered at all!”_

_“Morrigan!” Elissa cried as overwhelming warmth and jubilant feelings spread all over. The verbal insult gave way to her like a password; no demon could be as pointed towards her verbal insult as Morrigan always could. She had not expected to feel so relieved and happy at the sight of her old friend._

_Elissa had first reunited with Morrigan when she had stormed into Halamshiral those years past. Her old friend had been the only one she could not push away and even in Elissa’s anger encrusted state Morrigan would be at her side somehow easing emotions boiling over and calming her when she really didn’t want to be calm. The truth is Elissa would not have survived as long as she did if Morrigan had not taken up her position at the Empresses left ear dazzling her with stories and light shows of dark magic. She had been the one person she should have pushed away. The fact that Alistair got a taste of the life he could have without pinning himself down grated her a little but she was always willing to focus that on him and no one else unless she had to._

_It had not been easy for Morrigan though. Months past and Elissa would not even acknowledge her. One day a small brown haired little boy walked up to her as she brooded in a dark corner of the current ball that was occurring. He had the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen and they glistened when they looked up at her.  He spoke in such a small voice that at first she was not sure if the creature in front of her was real. “Kieran, this is the Hero of Ferelden, don’t forget your manners” Morrigans unsure voice pulled her from the boy’s face and understanding etched its way to the front of her black thoughts. She was torn between running and wanting to hold the little boy in front of her. He was something so pure born out of something so very bleak. However he came about he was companionship and love to Morrigan and she so desperately needed it to break the chain her own mother, Flemeth, had put in place. How could she ever be angry at her for that? Morrigans light touch to her arm reassured her that all would be well and then the first tears in years streamed silently down her face. Elissa crouched down so she was eye level with the small wonder before her and his light hand brushed the tears aside whilst a lopsided grin toyed on his lips. From above a friendly and familiar voiced hushed her and called her ‘sister’ in that old dry tone Morrigan always used when having emotions forced upon her. Kieran attached himself to her and that is how they stayed. The bandage had been truly ripped off. Kieran was the only thing of Alistair’s that she could be around or think of and after a while those thoughts never even occurred. This child had his eyes so brown so deep but he was nothing like him, he was all Morrigan and his mother did everything she could to make it easier for Elissa. She told Elissa that she had searched for her everywhere after she failed to find her in Denerim and was greatly put out to find she had eventually retreated to Weisshaput which was impossible for her to get into. She waited for years for her to get herself together and leave and now things were going to ‘Change’. She offered several hexes on Alistair but silently she held a reserve as if the chapter was not finished. She didn’t understand, Elissa would never be in his presence again as long as she lived._

_Dinner times in the Winter Palace were shared together and often Elissa was taken away from court by Morrigan for a summary of events, happenings or for an opportunity to berate or appraise her health. The last time she saw Morrigan she told her she was leaving to procure something very powerful and she needed to do it before someone else did. She said that she would find her; she told her she would always be watching and she would fix Elissa. Elissa simply grunted, she did not need fixing but none the less she did as she was asked and when Morrigan left she also departed for smaller surroundings in Val Royeaux. Elissa wished that she had gone with her more and more with each passing day. She found she was lacking the truth that Morrigan always brought to her. Even when they first met Morrigan learnt very quickly to treat the most important thing to her with respect and care even though she hated him. Her bond with Alistair had never been good but she tolerated him for her. In the end she had offered to save them both…. all for nothing but a little self-gain in the form of a child. She should have had ill feeling towards her old friend, but she did not, she never could. She understood every step Morrigan had ever taken._

_“Clever Elissa” her clear and crisp voice now uttered waking Elissa from her memories .Morrigan stepped closer tutting with annoyance “Now be silent and adhere to my words before it is too late. I have waited for you to sleep for two days and I am bored of your stubborn and annoying refusal to rest. You look tired, sister.” Morrigan appraised her with her deep amber eyes and even though she could be as hard as stone she had always managed to peel away a few layers for Elissa. They had become firm and best friends as they travelled together. Elissa had become a companion for Morrigan’s concerns and the childhood memories that had moulded her into what everyone saw as a heartless shrew. In return Morrigan watched over her as she slept and beside her in battle. When she had finally broken the news to Elissa of her real intentions, she didn’t see disappointment in her eyes but gratitude. She trusted this woman with the love of her life and in return she would save her friend, her sister. The feeling of protection had remained as strong as ever. Through everything._

_Elissa reached out for her and Morrigan held firm._

_“We will have time soon but for now, Elissa, there is something you must know or you face danger…”_

**ELISSA**

_A strange and distant voice was breaking through, calling her name reassuringly._

_“Damn that annoying Orlesian accent doesn’t get any better does it? Jarin cannot hold it any longer…Elissa, Listen you will not be able to feel them…it is…”_

**ELISSA…ELISSA…WAKE….**

_“Morrigan, please, no…”_

The fade disappeared as if someone had pulled a plug. Morrigan seeped away with it and a bright light now replaced it, blinding her now open eyes, stinging them into submission. The sound of heavy rainfall bashed against a nearby window and a short redheaded figure eclipsed the fading sunlight as she bent over her.

“Leliana?” She was waking faster now and found that she was also naked under the blankets that were hugging her cold form. The bed she now found herself in was the most comfortable she had been in for a long time. Her own in Highever consisted of a straw racking over a timber frame. A mattress hugged at her back and soothed away the aches that returned to her body with each eye blink of recognition. A sudden and tremendous pain shot through her head hugging on to her temples and making the bright light hurt even more. Someone had put an angry dwarf in her head and given him an anvil and hammer to bash away at his leisure. Speaking of angry dwarves…

“Where? How? Why am I naked?”

“Shhh Elissa…” Leliana giggled passing her a short jug with a frothing mix inside it. “…Drink…it will help”

Elissa took the jug and sniffed at its contents, pulling back as her nose informed her that she didn’t like the smell. Leliana watched her as a mother hen would, waiting for the salty gloop to disappear.

“You are safe now, in Redcliffe.”

“Redcliffe is not _safe_ for me? How did I get here?” she rasped as she attempted to drink. She gave Leliana a once over, a quick assessment, and noticed the white robed outfit she wore, she always did adapt to any uniform she was given but this was a sterner look for her. “What…no hat?” she bit out. Leliana looked herself up and down and huffed slightly returning to the task at hand. Elissa saw the hesitation on her face before she turned her back on her trying to hide it walking over to a water bowl and returning to place it on the floor next to the bed. Elissa continued to study her face as a range of different thoughts seemed to pass over her and then be dismissed as she begun to wring out a face cloth,  _a useful prop_ , Elissa thought as it made its way for her brow.

“You were very drunk, Elissa. I thought you didn’t drink?” She coughed a little nervously and removed her gaze from Elissa’s. “A scouting party saw you in some sort of trouble with a local militia and thought it best if you were brought here; Oghren is here also in case you were worried.”

Small glints of rushed memories weaved back into her banging mind. She remembered a lone figure blocking out her vision of the sky, looming over her cleaning his sword, he seemed so familiar. She shuffled her thoughts and returned back to Leliana, Sudden disappointment taking control.

“Really Leliana…lying to me? Is there no-one left I can trust? Why are _you_ here and not currently stuck up the backside of your new best friend, shutting down and expelling Grey Wardens? Is that why you are here to tell me to leave? Don’t waste your breath I’m leaving” She smacked the face-clothed hand away from her and stood up allowing the bedding to fall away.

“Elissa…” she began to sound desperate as she also rose to her feet “…I don’t think I know how to tell you the truth. You have enough anger in you already and I have no wish to add to that!”

“Must you continue to treat me like one of your minions? Trying to seduce me with your silver tongue, Holy Divine? Where were you when my Grey needed you red-head? In your ivory tower planning your step up to the Chantry I expect? You of all of them I expected to vouch for the Grey, spoke in their favour? Would your men be guilty of the decisions _you_ made? You even had a sodding Templar there and after all they did you did not judge him?..why didn’t he see..why didn’t any of them see?” Elissa’s rage was now back in control and for a moment she was frightened for what she would say. Leliana tried to battle back “I could have said the same of you Elissa, I sent you ravens, I …We needed your council”

“ **I ANSWERED WHEN I SHOULD NOT HAVE**!” Elissa bellowed back at her with all the force of a storm “ **For my sins I sent Stroud! He was a fucking good man among few, I sent him to meet with Hawke, and it was his mess! You are no-one to lecture me on anger issues. You see nothing but numbers and you don’t want to hear what I have to say about the sodding maker because then you would probably make me disappea** r…” She tried to calm herself with breaths ”…I know all about you!”  Confrontations like this never came out with a happy ending and her venomous tongue lied better than any bard just so that it could hurt and damage whomever it lashed out at with convenient and twisted versions of the truth. She rounded on Leliana as she ripped back the bedclothes hunting for her belongings. Her host must have put them some place close whilst she slept.

“Well, I give it to you Lel’; you must have been a fabulous assassin. How long have you been at the Inquisitors beck and call now? You just can’t buy the kind of lying political savvy that you learn from Halamshiral can you, Nightingale? You need to be able to do it whilst looking in the eyes of the ones you are lying to and you…are second to none. Well you go back and you tell that Dalish bitch that she will never ,NEVER, tell me where I can and cannot go in this realm or any other and that she would be better off trying to clean up her own mess instead of sending you hear to warn me against recruiting.If that pretty Arsehole from Denerim cant sway me you can’t either and for your records he agrees to them and I hope that realllllly stirs the pot.”

She realised she spoke too much in her rant and chose that moment to be silent. She stunned herself that she cared.

Leliana was also stunned but more wounded and embarrassed. Elissa had used all her confided secrets against her in one calculating swoop. She had never seen Elissa this way; she had never thought it possible. When all reports got back to her of her whereabouts and well-being she thought the courier a little too dramatic or gossip bound. Never expecting for a moment that the once fair and accepting Cousland could turn into this creature before her. Hell bent on crashing her alliances down and wrecking any friendships she had to in order to be alone. She decided to stay away from court because of the hushed whispers about her past and her ascension to Divine and no matter how hard she steeled herself it hurt, especially when the ones you hold up high spit it back at you.

Elissa was now nakedly scavenging around the room for her clothing sending bowls of water and refreshments crashing across the floor. A set of fresh clothing and footwear fluttered to the floor and tumbled into the puddles appearing freshly with each addition of water beneath her.

"So how was the inauguration anyway? I am sure you all had a spiffing time?”

“Elissa, we sent an invite and you did not reply…I would never have done it without you.”

“Yet…you did. Funny that. Another lie. But you know Dark Spawn. Someone had to keep them from uprising again since your friend the Inquisitor thinks Grey Wardens a bag of shit. We would not want anything like innocent blood being spilt or children being impaled on spikes to get in the way of your happy sodding day now would we?”

“ELISSA!”

Leliana covered her gaping mouth and fought the stinging tears back. Elissa’s words had ripped apart at her and the surprise was rapidly turning into anger. All the times they stood back to back in battle together seemed to mean nothing to Elissa anymore and the thought of losing a special friendship became too much for her.

“So this is how it will be, yes? You want to know why you are here? Very well. Alistair brought you here!”

“He what?”

“Yes, the silly boy thinks that he can save you by stealing you away. He was convinced that your friends, what are left of them, would make you see. This has gone on long enough, you are free to go but first I will tell you a few home truths and then perhaps you will understand why sometimes I…we, must lie to you.”

Elissa watched her as she pulled the wet tunic over her frame. This should be good, she thought as she reached down for the trousers that accompanied it.

“Don’t waste your time; I’m not interested in more lies and excuses.”she bit back, dulling down her tone to impress the fact that Leliana was a waste of her time.

The red-head flared into a silent rage and gripped the hems of her pleated robes for courage whilst taking a deep breath, not sure if she should go further with this but deciding to do it anyway. She did not care that it was not her place; this had gone on far too long…

“Alistair chose to rule on the throne alone, Elissa…. because of Fergus!”


	7. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me as I bring this work over from a previous site. It means alot to see this work being read again after so many years xxx

“I will pretend you never said that Leliana. I have listened to what you have said and as you stated I am now free to go. If you ever, EVER, blacken my brother’s name again so help me I will reign down a furious fire of Grey Wardens upon you and yours to remind you never to speak of a Cousland with such selfish slander again, do I make myself understood, assassin?”

Leliana was now regretting her decision to bring up a past that was not hers. She could not let Elissa go with only have a story. Half a story she had already declared as rubbish and slander. If she didn’t push on things would be worse for all involved and Leliana had always declared that Elissa deserved the truth. Alistair would indeed be furious but of the two she knew whom she would rather face down. With an extra push of solid strength she stood firm and strong, jutting her chin out and up defiantly.

“You will listen, Cousland! And you will listen to me well whether you like it or not. Fergus made Alistair promise him before he died!”

Elissa sighed and turned to face Leliana “I warned you, leave him out of this. It is indeed a new low when your only option to keep me imprisoned here is to blame it on a dead man.”

“Elissa…I swear, it is the truth.”

Elissa paused, her hands and eyes not knowing what to do. Things seemed to slot into place and her first instinct bit against her inner rage. Leliana would not lie about…that…would she? A new anger now gathered its rage.

“Four sodding years. Four years you had this so-called information and did not think to once share it with me? If what you say is true, and it isn’t, then you let me rot all by myself for four years!”

The small Orlesian sunk inside, her moral high ground slipping away rapidly. She was right. Elissa was completely right. They had all abandoned her for their own troubles. She had found a way to make Elissa be at peace with something from her past and when she needed someone to tell her that it really wasn’t anything she had done wrong and everything would be alright…they didn’t. What reason could she have to not understand Elissa’s plight. She felt that she had a huge hand to play in the creation of the stone cold Golem that stood menacingly close to her now, glowering at her with hate and betrayal, daring herself to possibly accept what she was being told.

“By the maker, Elissa. Sit down and we can…”

“NO! It is easy to look upon me with charity now as everyone else has done what they wanted to and are unbelievably self-involved with their placid happiness? What are the tears and silent pleadings of a friend night after night when you have your own happy pitiful loves to keep you warm? I saw you Nightingale, Skulking in corners at Halamshiral. You asked me about Celine, and then about Morrigan. I was a tap for you and your tyrannical Inquisition. That was the time. That was when you really should have said “Alistair was a sentimental arse, I know this Elissa because I’m very _very_ good at listening at doors”.

“Would that have made it better?” Leliana whispered under her old friends rage. She was right. Back then she was driven with fury for the Inquisition. Justinas death hit her hard and she pondered what she would have been like if Elissa had died all those years ago. She knew the answer to her own questions and steeled herself for the reply.

“….No. No it would not have. Now please leave me be, just go away.”

“Elissa…you know he loves you, things have happened and he had to…”

 **“SILENCE!”** she snapped cutting Leliana short “He doesn’t know what love means. He bandies it around as though it is easy. Love? Love?” She was beginning to crumble  _Come on hate…keep me safe_ she urged herself.

“The only love he has is for himself and I was roped in by the whole act. ‘I am but a poor stable bastard and nobody wants me…here have a sodding rose’. He even made me feel bad about asking him to lay with Morrigan but afterwards I had time to think. He really did not seem too upset about having to mate with another, did he? He must have thought his lucky boat had come in, gullible Elissa letting me get my rocks off with another, eh? I was an idiot!”

“No…you don’t understand…” Leliana was losing her edge to explain. Elissa raged on not allowing her to get a word in.

“Oh but I do…I really do, you see I have had so much time to put it all together. After he lay with her and I rid him of his arch demon he climbed up onto that throne and weighed up the options of settling for me or dipping his pen into many different inks! He didn’t need me anymore; I just gave him his fill when he couldn’t get it anywhere else, a conveniently placed campfire roll about. Well I hope he and whatever whore he takes is eternally happy.”

She panted and gripped at her chest, _enough of this Elissa! Why do these people insist on getting me to spell it out at every opportunity_ she just wanted to be left alone with her misery and thoughts, why couldn’t they understand that? She ran her hands through her hair and took a final look at a clearly dumb-founded Leliana. She thought about parting shots but bit at her lip deciding to make a somewhat dignified and silent exit. If Leliana had any sense she would stay silent.

“Elissa…”

“Oh for Andrastes sake. I don’t care…I just don’t care. Just leave me alone…” she began to thump at her breastbone willing it to stop hurting underneath. Giving up she decided it would be best to run now… _just run_.  She bolted for the door “…I don’t want your belated phoney false pretence or sympathy. I know I am cold and I know I am bitter, Maker knows I am also tremendously vicious but just leave me to it will you and I’ll be gone. Just write a song about that, it will make a pleasant change from all that ‘hero of Ferelden’ claptrap…Ferelden can be damned”

As she left she grabbed Leliana’s own cloak and swept out of the room along the empty corridor bellowing out her final swipe, defiant and loud hoping it carried itself away and to the right ears.

“All of you can be damned…especially your bastard king!”

**U:U:U:U:U:U:U**

The wind and rain continued to wage an elemental war against each other outside the highly placed castle of Redcliffe. The candles were now being lit in each window and the eerie sound of caged wind rattled through the bare bones that made up its corridors.

Arl Teagan wrestled with a particularly stubborn window and when he was satisfied that it was secure ran his hands over his trousers to dry them. He turned on his heels and slowly strode over to the fire, his brain now deep in thought.

“Teagan, please…sit down. You’re making me incredibly nervous and the room extremely untidy” Alistair sat in a large red chair on the other side of the room silently glaring out of a window being barraged by the rain outside. His fingers picked at the chairs finely upholstered arm. Each thread he freed made him calmer and every step Teagan took coiled him up once more. Teagan’s constant pacing and fiddling was interrupting his chain of thought and when Teagan turned to glare at him, and then thought better of it, Alistair smirked.

The door opened across the far end of the room and two figures swept in. Ayla Lavellan had now appeared and began to unbutton the top two buttons from her soaking wet cloak. She lifted down her hood and the figure behind her gently began to help her out of it. Alistair rose glad for the break in mood.

“Ah. Inquisitor, I’m glad you arrived safely in this mess” he gestured outside.

“Alistair really? Formal titles for a meeting such as this?” Ayla smiled broadly and walked over to Alistair’s side nodding to Teagan who nodded back.

“One never knows etiquette, Ayla. You should know that of me by now” he smiled at her and then her hulking shadow behind her joined the party.

“How is the quarry?” she asked hopefully.

“Well, things didn’t go as I planned. You will have your time to reason with her but I stand by my assessment. Something is incredibly wrong with Elissa. I’m not saying possession, hell that girl was too tough for that, but she is…”

“Hurt” came the followers voice. Cullen Rutherford began to hurriedly remove his gloves and cloak, eager to be rid of the clinging rain. He walked over to the fire and stood beside Teagan who was staring into its dancing flames; he wrung his hands in its warmth and after a few moments had passed he decided to finish his ponderings.

“She is hurt, let’s not dance around it. I met her in Halamshiral and Maker she could have killed me at five paces. Clever girl saw an ex-Templar, blondish brown haired man with obvious regal features…” he smirked with sarcasm “… and she obviously took me for you. What on earth did you do, old boy? If Ayla were there she would have told her to run a mile”

“She did” Ayla quirked in with a wink to Cullen.

“If I told you what i did, you would probably do away with me yourself.” Alistair answered “You were always so chivalrous”. 

“Well. She has spirit.” continued Cullen attempting to pick him up “I’ll never forget the words she said to me and if I wasn’t terrified I think I would have laughed out loud. She said to me, and I quote ‘I didn’t spend my time hunting down an Arch-Demon and then stabbing it through the heart to be told when and where I can go, but it does allow me to tell you where you can go’. She then remarked it was nice to see me without me wetting myself with fear. I’ll give her a great recall ability that’s for sure”

Alistair laughed and Ayla grinned as Cullen smirked. “You have a firecracker there Alistair, old friend.”

“And I need her back, even if it’s not…exactly how it was I’ll not have her like that anymore. She will eventually bite off more than she can chew and I need to get her to listen. She was on her way to the deep roads…nonsense…just nonsense.”

“Perhaps we should just let her go”

The room fell silent as all eyes followed the voice to Teagan. His back was still to the room and his silhouette echoed with determination “Arl Teagan that’s not how we deal with those who save our homes, have you forgotten the blight?…” Ayla began to berate him from across the carpet but was stopped by Alistair’s hand on her arm and a shake of the head from Cullen.

“Really, Inquisitor? Well, didn’t those who you banished do the same?”

Alistair hung his head unable to defend her on this matter he was after all a Grey Warden before he considered himself a king and in his own anger he had written a blazing missive to the Inquisition upon hearing of her decision . He knew, however, why she had come to help him now. It was in part for the decision she made in anger at Adamant and also to reconcile with the wardens. Ayla cringed backwards and Cullen moved to her side.

“We don’t always make the right decision in War.”

“Ah, but you said this was not war?” Teagan turned to face the Inquisitor. “Or do you mean it isnt yet?”

Cullen looked lovingly down at his brave Ayla placing a hand slightly on her back; he always did in moments like this. He tried whenever possible to let her know he was there. How awful for Alistair to not be able to do the same. In a heartbeat he would do the same as the man was trying to do now. Ayla loved an underdog and when she looked back at him he understood even more so why they were there. She wanted to say sorry. She was angered with words from her trusted friend. Solas was furious with the wardens and Blackwells lies didn’t help the matter. Alistair looked as if he was in agony hearing Elissa spoken about with such discontent it was immediately understandable when he came to Skyhold that she was never to be downtrodden in front of him, Cullen was the same when Ayla was taken to Halamshiral. They called her ‘Servant Inquisitor’ ‘Dalish Girl’ and some were horrified an Elf would be in the same room with them. He almost committed murder when one so-called noble asked her to bring some drinks and to remember her place below stairs. He felt what Alistair must be feeling and to be away from Elissa for so long didn’t help his old friend. 

Alistair was trying his hardest to be civil with Teagan.  “You have something further to say, Uncle? Please. Go on.”

The Arl jumped from his solitary concentration and his fingers now began to run through his short beginnings of a beard.

“Well, to be honest there are few words that come to me at this point in time. You abducted…”

“Abducted is a dirty word Teagan, I didn’t abduct her as such…”

“…You and _a dwarf_ abducteda senior ranking Grey Warden and brought her here, to my home with no indefinite plans of letting her leave?”

Alistair thought for a few moments before responding. What he really wanted to say was simply, _yes that’s right_ but he thought better about it. He opted for a dignified silence, which as it turned out was worse. Teagen read his silence well and his hands now flew into the air.

“This is an act of war, Alistair!”

“No it isn’t…”

“Commander…tell him! Tell him he has enraged a woman who has a bloody army bigger than Fereldens at this point!”

Both of them looked expectantly in Cullen’s direction and he raised a hand to his mouth giving a short cough. “I’m sure it won’t come to that Arl”.

“But if it does…”

“Well from what your missives said she is no longer a Warden Commander?”

Alistair shook his head. A silent answer was all he could muster.  _An act of war?_  Dramatics were no good to him now he needed support and loyalty. What good is being king if war was continually pushed in your face? Sign this petition or it could be war, don’t shake his hand like that or it could mean war don’t eat that cheese it was made by so and so it could mean war! He was sick of the sound the word even made; he was sick of constant threats of war and how easily his fellow countrymen used it. Teagan didn’t agree it would seem as he ploughed on.

“Regardless of her official title, Commander, when she wakes up…Oh by the maker she will be furious. The King of Ferelden and a Grey Warden Dwarf duped her into a false security, got her roaring drunk and then stole her away against her permission when she couldn’t defend herself. If you think for a second that she won’t use that to rally the Wardens against us then you are insane. What we need to be discussing is if this happens can we count on the Inquisition to aid us?”

Ayla looked horrified. She was already hunting down a friend and she really didn’t want to hunt down a Ferelden folk hero too. Alistair spared her an answer.

“You sound like the clowns at court now Teagan, remind yourself who you are talking of and to whom”

The room stilled.

Alistair found himself stepping into his kingly voice; he did that every now and then without even knowing he was doing it. It was not anything new, he often found himself doing it when Elissa had made a decision he had disagreed with as it had always seemed to be installed in him somehow, but he had not expected to use it on Teagan. He reared up like a war hound and his voice became stern and hard commanding and demanding of blind respect. He had nothing but reports arrive lately on his desk of how the nobles and advisors found Elissa’s erratic attitude towards the court disturbing. They even spoke of her withholding important information regarding dark spawn sightings so that they would be helpless against any attack. He knew that she wasn’t helping herself as she refused to take up her role as Teyrna of Denerim instead but he also knew she would never be found guilty of such an allegation. It didn’t matter what she had done in the past for these people, she was just a foreign dignitary now. No longer a noble higher than most of them, but a shady Grey Warden with an army that was growing in numbers and with a distinct dislike for their king. But as with any insult or jab that was presented to him in her direction he would puff out his kingly chest and remind them all that they were lower than her in all respects. This was winning him less votes of confidence as the days went past. Now that Eamon was gone…he had one shield less and the oppressing weight of tarnishing her to him grew, as they knew that she must be crushed from him forever now if he was to make a right match in marriage.

They never did this in public of course.

Blackening the name of the peoples hero would be immediate political suicide and this thought gave Alistair courage that their reports were worthless. Eamon had kept the wolves from his door and understood his wish to hang on to Elissa a little longer and never pushed the issue but he never let it be forgotten that an heir must become apparent. Alistair liked to think that in his own way Eamon was also holding out for Elissa, he thought that Teagan had felt the same. This is why Redcliffe was his choice for her.

“Apologies, Alistair” Teagan hurriedly replied “But with all due respect you know the girl she was four years ago. We have all seen her since then. I did, I met her once in Orlais and it was a strange and frightful experience. I kept it from you, as it would do you no good to know what she has made herself. Gone was the warm, caring and compassionate loyal Ferelden, dead and buried, she made that perfectly clear. I would never slander her intentions to the crown as I do not believe what has been said and if I could save anyone from their actions it would be her. Alistair, I know…” he hushed Alistair with a silent finger that indicated he wasn’t to jump at him as he had not finished “…I know you care not to hear it but I think that she is trying to…trying to…” Teagan searched rapidly to find the right set of words that would simmer the building situation and make Alistair understand but he understood only too clearly.

“Kill herself?”

“No, gain some peace, Alistair”

Alistair took a step back in disbelief and wiped his trembling hand over his now sweating brow. He didn’t want to relive this realisation, he would never forget how she placed the dagger in his hands and begged him to end it for her, the moment he almost considered helping her end her pain…he shook the memory clear from his mind and slumped back into a large chair behind him. Cullen poured a large goblet of warmed spice-wine and handed it over to the exhausted king before him. _How had it all come to this?_ Alistair asked himself as the silence crept on between the four of them. He ached for her but would not go to her directly with answers to her accusations and venom. Teagan shook his head and took a step back waiting for Alistair to gain some composure, as the silence seemed to go on forever. Alistair slowly drunk the warmed drink and when he had finished, placed the goblet upon a small silver dish beside the chair.

“Teagan, you do not have to agree with what I am doing but as your king, I am asking you to keep her here” Alistair broke the silence with a pleading request to one of his closest confidents. His eyes filled with such need that Teagan found it hard to keep eye contact.

“And where will you be, my king?” he asked.

“I will return to Denerim, I have been gone too long as it is. She…she will not want to be in the same place as me so it would be best if I leave. Leliana, Ayla and Cullen will be the voices of reason.”

“Alistair, by the maker you cannot just leave her here!” The mood was changing again. Teagan loved Alistair as if he was indeed an equal to him by blood as the previous king. Alistair was not the son of his sister as Cailan was but him and his brother, Eamon, had guided Alistair as if he was their own son through the first years of royalty. He could no longer sit by and let Alistair betray everything they had taught him. He understood his love for Elissa but when he had taken measures to prevent them why would he undo it all now and cause further danger, he just couldn’t accept it, even if he wanted to.

“You just can’t help yourself can you? All this is too late, Alistair. Whilst I admire your reasoning I cannot support your action. You are fuelling her hatred for you my boy…you must see this?”

The rain matched the mood and continued to thrash against the windows, rattling the tension further.

“I would love nothing more than to think that she would forgive me for the pain I have caused her, Teagan, but it is clear she will not…I must therefore encourage her hatred towards me to save her. This plan of hers will pass…I know her…”

Teagan grunted in disbelief and strained patience began to show on his already aggrieved face. He could hold it no longer and he would drive some sanity into the king before him if it were his last act alive.

“Tell her Alistair, This will all end…by the maker just tell her! You are pushing her into the arms of rebellion!”

“Rebellion? Did that sound as stupid as you thought it might in your head? I should blacken Fergus for that? I cannot and will not do that to her. That would finish her off, how could you even suggest a thing? I have kept it as my decision and I will continue to do that for him, for her…never mention it again.”

“Promises made then are surely not intended to be kept now? You know he wouldn’t want this for her…tell her my liege…Alistair!”

Alistair gripped the sides of the chair and maddening thoughts whipped around his head whirling and twisting into obvious necessity and huge mistakes. He always considered telling her, Maker knows how many letters he had penned, too much of a coward to face her with the truth. He had hoped to make her understand that he would always love her…but for his promise to Fergus. He calmed as he grieved for the girl who had lost all her family, two orphans they had become, now both so alone.

“It would crush her to know that Fergus would ask of me such a thing. If she had known, Maker. I…I thought he was right and I have to stick by my vow to him…” He sighed into his hands that now cupped his face, holding him together. “Fergus lost his wife and child to Howe and he never recovered when he heard. His heart broke then and there and he easily let it. She is not ready to hear such a tale”

“No Alistair, you are not ready. This is all needless guilt. What is done is done and, Maker forgive me for saying this but you are now king…love is no longer an option. You are holding on to her hoping that this will all stop and she will return to you and your side…she will not! You cannot lock her up until she decides this!”

Teagan bit his own tongue after he spat the words out. He hated to agree with the particularly awful tongues that wagged at court but eventually they were going to say something he had to agree with. The Orlesians were becoming agitated with the current treaty and many had whispered that Alistair should settle down with an Orlesian noble and end any threat at the borders. Alistair could not wait around any longer for a bitter warrior to finally come to her senses. The taint within both of them would put an end to any heir and therefore any possible pairing in the eyes of the nobles that surrounded Alistair. He had been petitioned day and night for his words to be put before the king on the subject and Alistair’s new actions had forced his hand. Teagan had nothing but love and respect for Elissa but she had shown him that her hatred for anything to do with Alistair would override any chance of her being the old bubbly beauty he had once held in such esteem and favour. The throne must survive with Theirin blood.

He sighed with a heavy heart as he strode over to Alistair who was not doing too well listening to Teagan echo what he had to hear every day at court. But he had to follow through. He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and spoke softly to him.

“Alistair, my dearest boy. Go back to Denerim and take a wife. Leave Elissa to what she does best. She is our protector and hero, the people look for her to keep them safe and she knows it. She will not do anything foolish, you broke from her four years ago…let it be…for both of you”

“When did you become so official Teagan?” Alistair wondered as the advice Teagan gave him continued to sting inside. His head bent down, and his eyes closed in shame and frustration. In the corner of his eye he saw Cullen slowly walking over to the rattling window to sub-consciously inspect the rainfall. His eyes suddenly bolted wide open as he took in the spectacle occurring in the rain soaked courtyard below.

“Well it doesn’t seem to matter anymore…it seems the Lady is awake…and not too good with hangovers”

Alistair picked himself up from the chair and darted over beside Cullen, who moved out of his way so that Alistair could see for himself as Elissa bellowed at stable boys and tugged at her horse preparing it for departure against the onslaught of rain upon them.

The door burst open behind them and a gush of chill wind darted in quelling the flames of the candle and fire. A breathless and harassed Leliana stood before them clutching on to the doorknob to stand upright, she had been running. The party turned to stare at her as to will the words out that she wanted to so desperately utter.

“Oh Alistair, forgive me…I think I have done something horridly wrong!”


	8. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 8, I have been heavily falling back into my Dragon Age addiction and needing fresh inspiration to continue. I hope it meets your approval and answers some questions. I had a lot of help from Imogen Heap and her beautiful Hide n Seek song. I suggest having it playing whilst reading…it has a certain ambience to the penned (or typed) words before you.

_She knows, maker she knows._

Alistair tore out of the study that he was standing in with Teagan, The Holy Divine, The Inquisitor and her Commander.

It had taken a mere five minutes for Leliana to tell him that Elissa knew Fergus was the reason behind his betrayal, a whole five minutes for his heart to burn up and rip at his rib cage, yearning to get out and to her. He felt light and dizzy whilst his stomach churned with a dreaded sick feeling at the thought of what this could mean. She hated him enough as it was, could he bare extra malice in her eyes as she looked at him and what if Teagan was right and she channelled the brunt of her anger through her men? He needed to get to her. He heard Teagan calling out from above to the guards down below but the howl of the wind and rain outside made it impossible for his message to get across, even  _he_  did not want her to leave without a full explanation.

Leliana would be the first to admit that she had done wrong, but when her heart was in the right place and one of the few people who agreed with his actions, Alistair found it hard to be angry with her. He may, of course, feel differently if Elissa rode out and away this night and out of his sight of intended protection. He had to get to her, at that moment in time the most important thing in the whole of his kingdom was that she didn’t leave this castle; he was not sure what thin line he would have to cross to achieve that, but it could not be a blurred one.

As he whipped around the final corner he turned into the main hall shouting for the doors to be opened, he didn’t want to waste a second in getting into that courtyard. A stream of guards had collected at his heels with no clue as to what was going on. They gripped their weapons as though an arch demon was on the other side of the wooden doors, not that far off it would seem as the sounds of Elissa screaming to be allowed past the gates smashed about with the pelting rain and into the castle entrance itself.

She stood soaked to the bone in a simple tunic and trouser suit. A light cloak hugged her shoulders with water as if it was made from glue and her hair was plastered to the fine build of her face whilst her skin was a pale white that glowed in the night sky and drenched square. She wiped away tears thinking she could fool any who looked upon her that it was rain as she stamped her feet into the ground, rooting herself there for as long as it would take. He knew her all too well and he knew her tricks of courage and stance. Elissa only cried when it rained. She said it was now the only time she could cry, people expected too much composure from her and she felt sadness always melted away with the rain. In the rain she didn’t have to worry about being strong.

She now wished her eyes had betrayed her as she turned in a huff and was greeted by the sight of her anger, standing there huffing with no breath left to catch waving to his guards behind him to stop where they were.

The two of them were a courtyard apart but Elissa felt as though she could feel his desperation from his penetrating stare. An eternity passed as their eyes locked across nature’s battle of elements, him slowly standing straighter and tall as though he was trying to stare down a Mabari hound by showing no fear and her snorting a laugh as she finally managed to turn her back on him.

The wind pushed over anything that was standing still and the rain crushed it with its full weight and anger. She suddenly stopped heavily still facing the guarded gates, her feet refusing to go along with her stubborn path of vicious verbal attacks. Her mind reminded her of their last encounter and her knees felt like they were ready to buckle again.

_Fergus did this…_

A renewed surge of energy pushed her to approach the guards at the gate as in murderous defiance at her lying thoughts. One dropped his head to the muddy floor so he didn’t have to repeat his regret as they refused to open the gates a final time. She spat the rain water from her lips on to the floor and ran the back of her drenched cuff over her mouth. She glanced at the second guard under a watered blink and saw he was looking upwards to an open lounge window above them, a candle still alight in the hands of a redhead. She followed his gaze and called out to the figure above

“Dire que votre Arl me permets de passé, Leliana de repos de coutume de …”

She yelled up as the wind thrashed her threat upwards to Leliana but before she could finish the window had closed and the light disappeared bit by bit. Elissa could no longer see the window in the darkness that had suddenly enveloped the castle wall and the courtyard. So this is how it was to be? She felt like a bag of nails had exploded in her stomach and she grabbed at the wet tunic that covered her mid-drift.  _Try to breathe you silly girl_  she thought, tiredness pushing at her eyelids begging them for just five more minutes of rest  _Its just frustration get these gates open and you’re free of all this delay._  The pain in her head and chest joined the list of ailments as they got stronger and stronger trying to slow her down, she wondered weakly as her mind swirled.

_Fergus?_

**“Get these gates OPEN!”**

She whirled her gaze and fury back down to the two guards at the gate and the four above on the small rampart that ran the width of the heavy wooden barricade holding her in.

“I will remind you one last time that by imprisoning the Teyrna of Highever you are bringing death to your door…this is an act of war by those that employ you…don’t die for them.”

She saw how they gripped at their pikes and shields as she spoke, eyes blotting out the pouring rain refusing to meet her eye and standing strong and loyal to their king and Arl. She looked them over with furious intention and spied an indented crest on the armour of one of the guards standing firm at the castles gates. “Hmph” she grunted things slotting into place “Inquisition? Well…this really does complicate matters doesn’t it? **COME TO SHOW ME THE DOOR HAVE YOU?”** She yelled as she twirled around to the crowds gathering around Alistair **“THIS IS ONE GREY YOU WILL NEVER CHASE OUT OF HER HOME!** ” she yelled storming to her mount once more. She will show them their precious hero of Ferelden is no animal to be caged in and ordered. A feeling deep in her being tried to shake her soul as she wiped the palms of her hands on her cloak and then pulled back the top of her saddlebags reaching in and finding her twin daggers.

_Pup…this is not who you are …_

… _But it would take but a few minutes father._

Alistair reached her hands, as they were about to withdraw leaning in as close to her as he could before she put up the fight he knew was coming.

“Don’t do this, Liss…they are not the enemy.” He whispered into her ear, softly snatching her back from her private battle, his voice warm and calming. She wanted to snuggle down in its fire and stay there… _but he had refused you, he didn’t want you to stay_ … the anger wanted to cling on to the past for its very existence _‘Say it with me. My name is Elissa..Theirin’_ a war was raging inside her and she could not decide what to do. Alistair’s voice broke through the minefield of emotional onslaught grounding her to the real truth.

“Draw your sword on me if you must kill something tonight. But Andraste help them, they look to you for protection not mercy” Alistair pleaded holding her hands tight in the dry saddlebags.

Elissa snapped her head around to him and he flinched slightly, she glared at him and her eyes welled up further. She felt suddenly hurt that he thought she would do such a thing to him and then terrified that she might. She was overwhelmed with a flushing onslaught of memories and emotions backing up his reasons of fear.

What had she become?

He relaxed his shoulders but still gripped her hands in place within the bags. The horse started to stamp and shake as the rain got worse and the floor below its hooves started to grab at anything it came in contact with. Alistair looked into the pair of eyes that were searching his face as though she was slowly remembering where and who she was. They missed their usual fine colour and looked like giant globes of black angry rock. Void of anything but raw anger, confusion and hate. She had truly become so consumed with this disease it had eaten away the girl he had loved.

The girl he …loved.

This was all him, he reminded himself but this will now end. She panted next to him as the rain now fell heavily down upon them.

A sudden bellow from behind broke the exchange of what felt like a beginning of some kind.

“Alistair…”

Cullen had gathered with a pre-emptive hand on the hilt of his sword calling out to his king no doubt testing the waters to see if he might be needed. Perhaps even to him he was too close to what they must see as a dagger-wielding harpy.

“No Cullen…it is well. It is all well”

Alistair shouted over his shoulder to all his staff and guards that had gathered, frightened and ready to pounce slowly instructing them to stand down, never once taking his eyes from hers. He informed them that he would return inside in a moment and that the guards should stand down from their newly formed defence. Elissa hated to admit it but the voice he commanded with was warm and well intentioned. Even now as he stood with one hand on her weapons and one hand on her horse, water dripping down his long hair and across his face, blinking out the water and brushing it off his top lip with his bottom, he made a fine leader. One which saw half his house standing there ready to throw themselves in front of her swords to save him, she could see it in their stance.

Wringing hands of female worry added with the tensed weapon clenched fists of the male kind showed that he was a kind master and leader. She found her stomach jump and a feeling of pride swept over her. She heaved in a gust of rain and air and let her head fall to the saddle of her horse pulling her hands from his hold and her weapons to cover her shameful eyes. What manner of creature had she become that she had been seen as a noted danger to their…her king? She never wanted this; never, she just wanted to have peace. They brought this beast before them not her and now as if standing in front of a huge mirror she was forced to look at what she had become. Had Fergus played a part in her misery? She couldn’t even force the full thought to march through her mind. She was not as strong as she thought. The realisation was crippling, the things she had said and done…no one could forgive such evil.

Alistair dared to move even closer, reaching across her to grab the reins of the horse. He tested the waters and pulled at the nag leading it off to the stables as the sound of the huge gated doors began to creak open and the small deluge that had built up behind it flowed out and down the hill into the city. He watched her as she stiffened, gazing out at the new beyond. She did not move with the horse and for a moment Alistair fretted that she would bolt. The gate lay open now and she stared out at the darkness beyond, _what are you thinking, Liss?_ He fretted… _no Elissa…don’t do it, stay_ _with me._

“Elissa….”

She turned to him as he called her full name, the rain seeping in and all over her now. She looked weak and tired. Battling with her demons had cost her dear and her hands and arms shook slightly as her world looked like it was about to crash down around her.

“Why now? You have not the strength for a bitter maid like me…I could just go” Her voice was weak but hanging threads of strength pushed the insult out as her gaze returned to the exit before her. There was no power in her words anymore just a fading attack at his interest in her.

His mouth opened and the words rushed out before he could think of a diplomatic response.

“Strength? It took all the strength I had to walk away Elissa. You asked me to cut you open and end your life and you meant it! By the maker I almost considered it! The pleading I saw in your eyes ‘it’s this or the Deep Roads’ that’s what you said…”

She now had her eyes pinned on Alistair as he spoke to her. She remembered it all too well and she saw how it had pained him. She was starting to believe…daring to believe would hurt her more wouldn’t it? She wanted answers before she gave up for good.

“I nearly did it Elissa…I would rather you die in my arms than any Dark spawn. It took all the strength I had to resist. I left…to stop the Deep Roads and your anger from taking you from me forever. Even if it was to hate me I could not live..I would _not_ live in a world that you were not”

A silence fell upon the courtyard, not a sound could be heard. Even the rain and wind had a hard time waking her from his last words. He stepped closer to her knowing what she would ask him next and he dreaded it with all his heart.

"Is it true? Did Fergus do …this?”

Alistair knew he had to answer but still the pointless need to protect her from more harm muted his speech. He simply looked to her as his face began to give way to matching emotions. He loved her more at that moment then he had ever done so before. She was never as strong as she led people to believe and he would always catch her when she needed to be caught. He knew his Elissa and every inch of him yearned to wrap her up in his arms and carry her to where he could dry her off and cradle her back to life. She had died these last four years and he had plunged the knife into her long before she had asked him to, how could one person have lived with this much sorrow and longing and what had her heart suffered more than his in whatever small cold prison she had locked herself away in these last four years? It seemed that the longest time elapsed as the two of them once again stared at each other from a small but huge distance.

“I am done now, Alistair. I have not the energy in me to hate you anymore. If this is true than my whole reason for being has just been one huge lie. The pain…in my heart it is…stretching over everything. I can’t breathe anymore and…I just…want silence from it all…please let me go…no more lies, please”

She pleaded with him for an end to her pain and as he still refused to answer her he looked to the floor letting the horse trot off to whichever dry spot he could find. A few soldiers still loitered around but Alistair paid no attention to anyone else in the small courtyard but Elissa who was now starting to sway, lifting her head up to take in the full pelt of the oncoming rain. He walked slowly over to her and made it clear that he was going to move his arms towards her. He held up the palm of his hands as his tunic flapped tightly around his arms in the wind. He felt nothing, no cold or wind…only gaping regret. He lifted his hands up the sides of her face and slowly placed them on her skin, slightly pulling her face down to him.

“Yes…Yes, Liss…Fergus asked me to spare you a broken life…. he asked me to leave you whilst you could still move on.”

The world she had cocooned herself in had just crumbled, she had no control anymore and she found it hard to breathe, she grasped at the wet cloak and tried in vain to pull it tight around her as if it would hold her up whilst she drifted away, but that had always been his job and four awful, painful years would never change that for him. He didn’t and wouldn’t remove his hands from her cold but familiar skin, silently remembering the joy it was bringing back to him, touching her was always a most blessed gift and the tingle her touch always gave him returned with a regretful embrace upon his soul as he struggled to get his breath back. The sensation he felt had been one that he thought he would never feel again and even though he wished it was in better circumstances he relished the jump to his heart. He moved his fingertips across her skin wiping away the onslaught of water that replaced every drop he destroyed, his mouth opening wider with awe as if she was a shiny new star that he had caught with no intention of ever letting it return to the sky.

It felt like hours, those brief few moments; standing in a hurricane of anger in a bubble made just for two. Alistair felt movement from Elissa and he felt her touch before he heard her plea.

“Tell me….please”

Her gentle and splintered fingers brushed his long hair from his face and as she turned her hand over to graze at the beginnings of his beard he knew he had to tell her everything.

“The night before we left for Denerim, Fergus saw me leave Morrigans room. At first he wanted to run me through there and then for betraying you but forced with no other explanation that would save his blessing for us I told him the truth. I told him why I was there. He flew into a rage and made me see what we had done. We were fools Liss, she had planned it all along and with a plan like that she had an end game. What then? What would happen after who knows how many peaceful years, she would just return and ruin our future together? He made me see that at some point down the line you would be gravely hurt. Should I spare you from the embarrassment that comes with an heir elsewhere before or later? Before when you were young enough to move on and forget me or later when we had a home, life or maker forbid a beautiful family? Don’t you see you were safer with me locked away from you? You think you have been the only one in a prison? I have left Denerim three times in four years the last time was to come to you and you made me hold a dagger to your heart!”

Elissa’s whole body collapsed into him and her head swung back. She was tired and done. Alistair was wracked with worry that this was the end; this was Fergus all over again. It had been too much all in one go, what was he thinking? He wanted to shake her and have her say something…anything…just something about what he had told her. Leliana had suddenly appeared with a face full of tears and a dry blanket; he snatched it off her hurriedly, wrapping it around the fragile and light body that had gone limp and lifeless in his arms.

“Alistair…please…”

Cullen arrived beside him in an instant and offered his arms out to take Elissa and he greeted the offer with a growl, he held her tighter to his body and Cullen tried to reason with him “Alistair, listen to me. She needs to come inside…now” With one last look down at the frighteningly lifeless Elissa he grudgingly parted with her limp frame letting Cullen carry her back inside with dry arms. Ayla had suddenly appeared and was rushing past him gathering servants and issuing orders. A small army of messengers and errand boys were being dispatched to different areas of Redcliffe with various jobs that were in great urgency. 

A sudden hand grabbed Alistair’s arm as he started to move off with the gathering crowd of healers and servants. He turned to see Teagan urge him with his eyes to stay away but he pulled away from his grasp with such fury that he struggled to stop from saying what he really wanted to.

“You did the right thing Alistair…” he called after him as he watched Alistair follow the hurried band of healers, servants and Inquisition members who carried the Hero of Ferelden up and into the Castle.

Inside they had carried Elissa back up to the room she was in mere moments ago and when Alistair entered the tiny room the castle seemed to fall deathly silent. Her tiny form had been removed of all her wet clothes and now lay unresponsive upon the bed she had woken from. Leliana stood behind a lean raven-haired mage who waved his arms up and over her body, chanting and channelling the spells he needed to bring her back from the cold she willingly walked into. Elissa’s lifeless form jumped slightly and Alistair rushed over moving the mage with his own hands.

“What are you doing to her?”

Leliana suddenly appeared to his left.

“Alistair, please let Jarin do what he does best. He is a fine mage and one of the best healers we could find. Please.”

Alistair slowly moved out of the way and brought his hands to his mouth. He chewed on the ends of his finger tips whilst pacing and dripping puddles all over the floor. For the first time in years he began to silently petition the one who held her life in his hands.

_Maker…let her get through this or by Andraste and all her sodding ashes…take me next._


	9. Truce

The light from the comfortable fire across the room from her started to creep through her slowly opening and sleep-dried eyelids.

Elissa had no idea how long she had been asleep but her head felt heavy and her body sore from too much rest.

She could just make out the shape of a lone figure watching her wake from the shadows and she immediately felt her fingers creep under her pillow searching out the tiny daggers she normally hid there while she slept, but as her eyes opened more carefully she started to remember that she wasn’t at home…she was somewhere else and the daggers would definitely not be there of her hosts had any savvy about them.

The stranger took that opportunity to step forward and Elissa didn’t seem to recognise the inbound frame at all. The movement was slow, perhaps to not alarm her or perhaps to find out if she still slept, but continue on towards her it did.

The fires light flickered against the shadow of the apparition before her and she gasped as she understood the figure was male. She had assumed it was a possible female as she could make out the waves of what seemed like long hair down the back of a straight torso but as he now came closer she noticed that the hair she had previously noticed before was actually waist length braids formed from a top knot that was only present along the top of his head and down his back. One side of his head was short and shaved and the colour was a magnificent black that seemed to suit the build of his features perfectly. She noticed that with each step forward the light turned the loose strands of hair along the right side of his face a beautiful dark blue like a convenient veil of night that he could slink away into if he so wished.

She paused as he flashed his eyes at her _Have we met?_ She rubbished the thought immediately she would have remembered meeting someone this captivating. But the eyes looked right through her. She was sure he wasn’t using magic on her but she instantly trusted him when he flashed the warm brown of his eyes at her, calming her.  _Healer's gift perhaps?_

He took a step even further forward towards her bed and she instinctively hunched back to the wall behind her as the blankets scattered side wards or to the floor. He moved with a cat like grace but hovered in places as though scouting her with those dark eyes for reasons to pause. He seemed unsure but still decided to move closer, regarding her like an awakening experiment. His curiosity slowly turned to a satisfaction smacked grin as he stepped further out of the dark and into the light where she could appraise this new character properly. She knew she was still in Redcliffe but as to who this man was she had no idea. Her limbs and body felt aged and for the smallest of movements it was a tremendous effort so making a run for it was out of the question. The stranger noticed this and his slim frame became shadowed as he lifted his left hand up to his mouth, which was now sporting an amazed and entertained grin…there it was again, she thought, _I am sure I don’t know him but his dark wild eyes seem so familiar_. She watched him with a stern and cautious face and he reacted by drumming his fingers on his chin.

“So…Elissa Cousland. You are her. A Highever if ever I saw one”

“I am” she answered discovering her throat was incapable of making a threatening tone. She coughed slightly to rectify that and swallowed away the pain the action brought. “You have me at a disadvantage mage. I am rather disorientated at present and known to be a little moody so perhaps…a step back or five?”

The stranger ignored her and stepped even closer.

“Interesting” he continued “I thought it would be at least a day further before you re-joined us, if you ever did so of course”.

The arrogant mage’s voice was light and yet somehow sharp, pleased and well-articulated whilst wrapped up with a hint of dialect;  a region she couldn’t pin down. His words sounded direct and exact and very self-assured which was not fitting with his seemingly young age. She immediately thought of an old soul trapped inside the body of a younger mind as he presented himself with matching particles, in presence and personality. She couldn’t see many people understanding this breed of man and she immediately thought of his loneliness as he became rapidly less imposing to her now.

Elissa gave a sarcastic grunt and shimmied the blankets up around her. She looked down as she pulled the lighter blankets over her lower body noticing that she seemed to be dressed in only a thick nightgown, of which she could not recall putting on. As her body woke further she started to feel the cold creep in around her toes and she tucked them back in and under as her eyes raced back up to the talking stranger before her. He was now stroking a small tuft of hair on his chin as he took the smallest of steps backwards. A silent understanding of her discomfort was remedied by a step back but not too far that they couldn’t continue to read each other.

She glanced him over and found that he wore a robe of the richest red, which was accompanied by a slight waistband of silver that was draped around his waist. Two vials dangled from his belt and the clinking noise they made as he moved seemed a little hypnotic to Elissa. Her attention now travelled upwards and she could see that to accompany his full head of raven black hair was a thick white wolf pelt that sat beautifully across his broad shoulders and wrestled fantastically with his olive skin and dark features. His whole ensemble was a war between dark and light and he wore it majestically, she had never come across a mage such as him before and she wondered where on earth he had been hiding. She didn’t see him fitting into any chantry or Mage circle yet…he was somehow trying to fit in and he was struggling. She understood little of this man so far only that he was not accustomed to changing in order to fit in or be accepted, she liked this, but still didn’t trust him.

He was preened and clean but she had never seen a man wear his hair so free. He could have been around the same age as her if not perhaps a little older, his face was defined and his cheekbones and structure well chiselled, in short he was very handsome but the fact that he knew it and didn’t care made the jewels that hung from his ear and down his shoulder shine on their own and bring the only warming beauty to its holder. It was rare, she thought, to see a man with such a wild breed of dress but with such finery that only a man of knowledge would dare to try and carry off.

“Have you finished your appraisal?”

His once again clear and direct voice cut her from her thoughts.

“Have you?” she replied.

She sensed that it was now perhaps time for some introductions and he agreed as he walked over to her bed and lifted her chin up with his finger, _oddly cold touch for a healer_ , she thought. He glanced at her askew and then turned her gaze to the other side. He made a short ‘humph’ sound and stepped back.

“My name is Jarin P…” he seemed to catch himself in providing a family name and quickly skimmed over it “..and I am for all intent and purposes, your medic here at Redcliffe and believe me if I was not…you would be dead.” His eyes lit up with self-appreciation at his role in her life. Elissa was not surprised but found this warmed her humour somewhat.

“Erm, thank you?” she replied, trying to find the words that wouldn’t offend him

“Yes…well…I guess…you are welcome?” he was very new to gratitude, obviously, she thought.

“What was wrong with me?”

“Do you want the truth or the official story?” His hands flew up in a sarcastic curl and it was plain to see that this was to be a man who liked to talk with his hands.

“Both?”

“Well theyand by _‘they_ ’ I mean the brainless sheep out there, think that you were exhausted, tired, a little bit suicidal and grrr like” his hands had come up beside his pretty face and formed claws to be accompanied by a teeth snarl of sarcastic effort making the whole situation slightly comical to watch. He obviously had no time for dignitaries. He was getting better by the second “The truth is…” he continued “…That  _you_  people will go about drinking Darkspawn blood and forgetting that as well as binding you with their thoughts and presence…it is actually BAD FOR YOU!”

Elissa just stared at him. There was not much she could say to that, he was right of course. They all knew the dangers Darkspawn blood would have upon those who survive the joinings but not much else was ever pondered on. She stopped thinking about what else would come with her job description after she found out she could not conceive…there didn’t seem to be anything else that could top that.

“Your heart was rotting. It is as simple as that. The taint isn’t just a fabulous battle accessory you know? It sits and waits for any chance of weakness and then it feeds…attacks and grows. It is like any other disease, it claims and kills. Your heart was a plum little factory of negativity and despair. It had rotted away to its very embers and with none of that jolly ‘ _tally ho’_ spirit you all seem to have, which by the way is tedious beyond belief, you were ripe for the taking…”

Elissa pouted her lips and chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes darting left and right trying to think of something clever to say, all she could honestly think of was that she had met someone a little bit more angrier than her…he seemed even more familiar now… _Jarin? Jarin?_ Where had she heard that name before?

“…If I were you I would introduce some form of pamphlet for equally keen and eager naive recruits to ponder over as they sign their lives away to a nice little tipple and a spiffing sword.”

“We don’t get swords…but the tipple was exquisite…what did the taint do to me?”

“Well, in layman’s terms it worked its way through your blood and settling on your heart. Over the years you allowed it to control your movements and feelings, It told you that you were angry and you went along with it, it told you that you were better off dead and you believed it, you fought it of course which is why it took so long but it was blackened…withered and almost out of my reach to bring it back. It’s not only desire demons that can get inside you and take over, you know. So young and new to this world you all are, things are not as black and white as the Warden handbooks think they are. Once again I am forced to remind you…its B.A.D for you!”

“We don’t have handbooks!” She glared up at him, snapping. He read her irritation correctly and stopped to look down at her. “I was rescued from a family massacre and taken by a man who knew me as a child to Ostagar where I then had to stand helplessly by and watch as the only person alive that I trusted with my life since I was a child died like an animal moments after watching me through the amazing soiree which was my joining and becoming my mentor. Handbooks would have been handy on reflection but I don’t think he had gotten around to it, saving the King, the world and killing Darkspawn and all that shit!”

“Died like an animal?” was the only blank response she got back. His beautiful olive colouring seemed to drain and she thought him rather squeamish. Perhaps this is why she had never seen him before. Squeamish mages were not born for the battlefield and as of late that is where she has always been.

Jarin seemed to compose himself and shook his hands out in front of him as if shaking away the torrid memories she forced upon him, he had now been given a taste of her dark tongue and she didnt think he took to it well. Acting as if the conversation had never occurred he folded his steepled fingers behind his back and looked at her with fierce concentration.

This unsettled her

“So…what of me now?” she enquired.

“Now? well your heart is scarred and still untrusting but it will heal…maybe” she saw a glint of sympathy behind his eyes and it was enough to warm him in her own.

“Then…I thank you Jarin…I am in your debt Ser.”

“Ser? Phooey not likely…but since you mentioned debts there is something I must speak to you about…”

The door opened slowly and the creak cut the conversation in two. Alistair popped his head around the door and then his whole body followed suit. Jarin grimaced and snapped his head from Elissa to the clearly unwelcome visitor.

“I said, quite clearly, that she needed more peace to rest, Kings are not above plain common sense or the words of a Healer and higher intellectual you know!”

Elissa found that she could not hide the grin that his bare faced insubordination brought. It seemed that Alistair was to always be doomed with the immediate hate of all things mage like.

“I heard voices and thought that now would be the ‘ _later’_ you told me I could visit?”

It was clear Alistair had tried to visit for a while and Jarin, like a faithful Mabari, had refused him.

“It is fine Jarin…I am fine. Please return to any other affairs you may have and you can call upon me at a later time.” she nodded a goodbye and he turned to leave, not too happy at anything that had just occurred, she was delighted to have pained him.

“We will speak soon…very soon” He growled under his breath and swished with a slight fury past Alistair and out the door slamming it shut behind him.

“Now that's why Mages should have personality spells!” Alistair was surprised at the farewells and indeed the welcome he had been given upon entering the small room.

“I quite like him…he seems…never mind” she shook the strange comparison from her mind as she moved up to the headboard of her bed, pulling the blankets even tighter around her now.

Alistair smiled in response and placed himself in a large chair by the fire, slinking backwards so the two huge arms of the chair hid him somewhat in a faint shadow. He picked up the two large daggers at the foot of the chair and twirled them in his hands. As the time ticked by in silence he played with them for what felt like an eternity refusing to meet her eye but gathering up the courage to try. She lowered her head to the pillow once more and was content enough to return to sleep knowing that he was simply just there. Her heart truly did feel differently and the loss of the hatred was slight but still enough to confuse her by being near him so calmly and peacefully.

“These are not yours. They are bland and dull, numbed and scratched. What happened to your mothers?” His voice was like a whisper as it brought her out of her daze.

“They are in my saddle bag still…I hope.” She sensed that he was trying to make a start in conversation and he needed her to be the second person involved in doing that, this didn’t feel like it would be easy but they would need to work together to push the past away, even just a little bit.

“Since returning from Denerim after the blight, I found that every village I went through needed a sign of courage of some kind, so they could pick themselves up and fight on to repair their homes, livelihoods and families. They needed something to help rebuild and defend against straggling and hungry Darkspawn. Riordan…”

She paused at the name.

She had found great comfort in Riordan and the added vision of Duncan always returned with his. Alistair placed the daggers by the fireplace and stood, he moved closer now standing by the window a few steps away from her bed. She watched his face mirror her own as he gazed out at the night sky seeing his own memories conjured by the name. Duncan’s loss was always to be this raw to them both, she decided to carry the story on and leave that sorrow with the rest.

“Riordan told me that the weapon of a slaying warden always hung in the local tavern of any village that survived a blight. So I had several made to replicate the ‘great daggers of Highever’ tinted with arch-demon blood and…well…there you go”

“Your mother would be appalled I suspect?”

They both laughed lightly and it turned into an uncomfortable silence. He walked over to sit on the end of her bed as she seemed to shift further in the other direction not having much room left to escape in, he was so close now and she was not sure she could handle it just yet. She still didn’t feel comfortable with his closeness, but at least she wasn’t spitting venom at him. It felt strange to no longer hate him but she felt she had to press back any other emotions that wanted to rush back.

Progress and yet more silence.

Alistair took a deep breath and curled his fingers around a loose curve in the bed sheets. Every inch of his focus was on this piece of cloth…his eyes…his concentration and his courage relied on this bed sheet for support to say what he came to say.

“After you killed the arch demon, I made my way to Fort Drakon’s gates. I was grabbed by a field mage and told to come urgently to a makeshift tent at the side of the palace. When I walked in I knew immediately why I had been called for. They said that they had been looking all over for me and he, that is Fergus, wouldn’t rest until they brought me back there. He waited, 'Liss to make me promise to him…and I did. As soon as I did he closed his eyes and left for the fade. The mages told me afterwards that they found no injuries or wounds but they sensed a heavy darkness or melancholy within him. Wynne told me later that he had died of a …”

“…Broken heart…yes I know the rest” she interrupted solemnly, wrapping her under sheet around her stomach as he pressed on. She didn’t want to do this but she knew that they had to. If nothing happened afterwards then that was fate but right now the last four years had to be explained and understood, for both of them.

“Morrigan’s absence when you returned made me feel that it was the right choice, Maker forgive me. I was drunk with morale obligation and right doing. The journey to where I stood then seemed wrought with heavy decisions and all of them you had made, I had it easy. I never knew how easy until I…I had to tell you …” he gulped for a surge of bravery to filter through and make him finish “…that we should be apart. What is worse is that I blamed it all on Ferelden I was a massive fool…no surprise there eh?”

He made a nervous smile and his eyes now searched hers with an urgent sense of acceptance. To his surprise the corners of her mouth tried to lift but they gave up, that was more than he could have hoped for. She reached forward and laid the palm of her own hand on his as it began to turn red gripping at her bed sheet, he relaxed his hand into her care and he stared at her, begging her silently to say something.

“I understand what you did now…but four years went by and with each day I died a little more inside. It was the taint hacking away at an easy target but I welcomed the hatred that kept me going and look what happened when I drove it out…I was for the fade…and no Darkspawn needed to get anywhere near me. I am just…not sure…”

“I am not asking anything of you 'Liss. I just wanted you to know…and well…I shall leave you to your rest.” He began to stand hating to withdraw his hand from her warm grasp, but not wanting her to feel pressured into forgetting the past. He had given it plenty of thought and even if she regarded him as a known acquaintance instead of an enemy or best-forgotten mistake this would be a victory.

“You are leaving Redcliffe?” the panic in her voice surprised him and he sat back down on the bed. He shook himself and she too was surprised at the reluctance for him to leave but he was not going to give her time to turn back.

“No…well not for now, there is trouble in the bannorn but that’s what diplomats are for, right?”

Silence returned as he sat back down leaning his back up against the corner her bed was placed in whilst crossing his legs in front of him and stuffing a pillow behind his neck. She slowly watched him as she curled back up under her sheets nervously playing with the loose curls at her ears. They sat at opposite ends of the small bed and she moved her hands to a pillow trying to find a cold spot for her head to rest.

“Is that stuffy Bann Jintall still at court?”

“Ah yes, I am afraid he is but he is now joined by two shorter Jintall’s and the ever so popular Mrs Jintall and no…he has not learnt how to control his random attacks on his neighbours chicken farms”

They laughed a little and Alistair spent the night telling her stories of the characters at court these days and the things that had happened since she had last visited the capital. The moon had long gone and the sun began to peep through the mornings red clouds before he left her room silently and regretfully taking a last look at her as she slept peacefully and in his own honest opinion…Beautifully. He wondered as he shut the door behind him carefully if he still had a hold on even a small part of her life? He mentally prepared himself to cling on to that part with everything and all that he had because being just a ‘known acquaintance’ to  Elissa would never be enough.

**U:U:U:U:U**

_The woods darted past her as she surged forward yearning for that familiar sensation that crept up at the back of her neck, where are you? She silently begged…help me!_

_Nothing._

_She suddenly skidded to a halt when before her stood a small but growing horde of Darkspawn in their familiar dribs and drabs of hunted and scavenged armour._

_They turned to see her and she slowly buckled her courage up allowing her to stand solo and strong, her back sharp and arched reaching behind her for her bow. Standing slightly off she slowly raised her bow arm and as the horde grunted and reared for attack she loaded her twinned and tainted arrows. Everything stood still time, sound and even age…she took a deep breath in and the white light of Cousland courage returned to her as if it had never left, she was alone and she would slaughter them all, this was her way, the scout she had always been was always the first to attack up front first…all alone. This was how she was stocked; she would fight like it now for as long as she lived. She laced an extra arrow to make it three through the strings and shut her guarding eye drawing them back with precision and destination now locked. She could hear them drawling and howling mixing their hideous communication with the customary call to arms of the sword and shield drumming. From the back of the scattered pack she saw him…the target…the filthy emissary, Short and stocky and reeking of death. She would have him if nothing else that day. With that thought the bow released its quarry and the arrows flew through the air silently pacing and seeking their target with force and brutality, they spiralled and weaved together lashing out in intended unity whistling loud and fast past the heads of the other filth they shot past. The arrows dashed sprinkling poison on the Darkspawn gathered around as they struck with force into the gut of the over balanced Genlock Emissary. He gave a short whelp and ripped at the arrows pulling them out without a care, his staff now aloft in the air in his shaking and bloodied hand, summoning a glyph of protection around himself he began to heal. Elissa didn’t wait for him to finish she threw the bow to the floor and ran grabbing with her crossed arms for her daggers. Her eyes to the ground she dashed dragging the twin blades across the forest floor, sparks and acid flying as the tinder it ran across glowed with their power and runes. She let out a loud roar and charged head first with a leap into the now surrounding crowd lunging forward with a duck and riposte dodging the lazy and crude blunt swords of the Darkspawn._

_They piled in from nowhere becoming more than the six or seven she had originally scouted. She criticised herself with a sleeting breath as she continued to step out of the way of the tightening weaponry, her duellist skills had not become rusty as her stance hardened and a second…third Darkspawn dropped to her feet. More and more they came until she could not see the forest any longer around her. She smiled and laughed, firstly to herself and then as more appeared louder and louder in a maddening bellow._

_This is it Elissa…this is what you wanted._

_She laughed further as she thought of all the times she wanted this and now that she didn’t…it happened…by shielding her they had only brought her to her destiny faster…well she wasn’t going out like a coward…she was Elissa Cousland… this was her death. She thought of many things she felt would pass through her mind as it got closer but a feint voice echoed to her, a small rhyme she had heard as a child made its way through her bones and helped her stand as blades cut to her arms and chest._

_anduri alor vell an evan_

_ata vre beneavm_

_Father…._

_She suddenly heard the loud caw of a nearby bird. It came again and over the heads of the oncoming Darkspawn she saw a large black raven circling and becoming larger and larger with each beat of its wings, the attackers stopped and gazed upwards as it descended behind them. Within a few heartbeats it went silent and before she knew it the air turned icy cold the leaves under her boots started to crisp and crack and the forest turned a beautiful shade of white, swallowing the bodies of the ones that dared darken its beauty. The Darkspawn shouted and yelled as they slowly became stuck to the floor desperately trying to free their feet from the icy shackles that now ravaged at their skin. The purity of nature was killing them quicker than she ever could._

_The emissary roared and sent a swarm of pestilent bees to the new attacker and before Elissa dared question what had happened she began to call any nearby wolves to her aid as she finished and continued to slash at the stunned Darkspawn as the growls of her small and deadly allies began to smother the remaining fodder. The emissary turned and fled leaving behind enough traps to slow down any followers. She thought about following but knew only too well that experience had taught her to savour a small victory if it was just about deserved._

_Elissa breathed and removed her helm, wiping her brow with the back of her clothed wrist. As the last of the Darkspawn fell the frosting of the forest dripped away as though it had never been. The mist cleared and a familiar silhouette was beginning to emerge._

_Morrigan? … “Morrigan!”_

_“I would hope i make a better entrance than The Witch of the Wilds. Cousland”_

_Jarin walked forward from the mist and gripped onto a weathered silver bark staff he had fashioned from debris at his feet. He was removing a small globe that he had attached to the top and placed it into an equally small black pouch at his side returning the now ordinary piece of firewood to the floor, powerless and natural once again._

_“The Healer…how? The raven, it was you?”_

_It was becoming clear to her now, the raven…the raven had been following her for weeks. She remembered seeing it the night Alistair stormed out of Highever, the night she was too drunk to fight and the morning she awoke after the storm. Morrigan…she had spoken a name like his when she came to her as she slept._

**_'Jarin cannot hold it any longer…Elissa, Listen you will not be able to feel them…it is…’_ **

_“And so it finally becomes clear, yes? I think you know the answers, Elissa…she sent me to watch over you.” he walked over the debris of darkspawn and sniffed at the air below him. “You no longer feel them do you?” he motioned down to a pile of remains. “The connection to them is indeed severed, just as she said it would. You are free…so to speak. We gave this to you in return for information that you may give me. It will mean, however, that I am bound to you by blood…naughty I know but it really is for your own good”_

_“We?”_

_“Yes, my mother and I. Morrigan, as you call her, asked my mother for assistance in removing a heavily sated Darkspawn taint. My mother has a soft spot for Greys and said yes. In her own way she thought that I would be interested in…getting to know you.”_

_“Getting to fucking know me?”  
_

_Elissa wasn't listening her mind only focusing on the first part of his statement “Let me say this clearly Mage, and I don't want to get anything you just said mixed up because if i heard you correctly I will loose my temper and we all know what happens then. What you are saying is that Morrigan took my taint away?”_

_“Yes, clever chit”_

Elissa erupted.

_“WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS TO ME? How…how could she…by BLOOD…MY BLOOD?”_

_“hmmmmm…yes she said you would see this the wrong way at first. I suggest we all just calm down a little. I only took a small sample of your blood when you were brought up to your rooms the night of the storm. I made a small recipe that allows me to know where you are and if you are in trouble etc etc rather tedious really but, Morrigan was right…you like to get into trouble.”_

_She felt sick. Her legs felt they would give out and her head became light as the pain her wounds were now providing started to reach past the adrenalin that had forced it back before now. Jarin strode over to her and reached for her reclining arm. He held onto her with such a force that Elissa knew better than to try and struggle. He looked at her armour and then her chest; he placed his hands over her stomach and brought his eyes up to her as he chanted a healing spell. Looking up from the now healing wounds on her arm Jarin held her furious glare with his own intense stare, his brown eyes growing wide with intention._

_“Listen to me Elissa.” he whispered sternly “Calm yourself now. You are far from recovered and you no longer need this anger. Do you hear me? I can play just as dirty as you if you want to get into it but i think talking…would accomplish much much more.”  
_

_Elissa felt his eyes on her trying to read her thoughts from her rapidly blinking eyes and rapid heartbeat; as it slowed and she stopped growling at him he loosened his grip and gave a cough for a laugh whilst releasing her slowly. Jarin’s voice and words were familiar to her but she could not place their home in her memories or if she had indeed heard it before, a simple warning was not new but the tone…the words…she listened to him when she really did not want to as if he was an elder or someone she knew made sense._

_“Good” he smirked turning his back on her slowly and walking over to a tree stump nearby “Things are always better when we are calmer, are they not?”_

_The traces of her stubborn anger simmered below the surface of her glare at him and she toyed with her armour giving her hands something to destroy if it could not be his smug face._

_“My Mother and I are Avvar mages who have, shall we say, dealings with your Morrigan? Between them they asked for my help and Morrigan is rather tempting is she not? ‘A way forward’ my mother says. We don’t need to fear the wretched Chantry or Templars as you Lowlanders do; there is another life other than being on the run or being a whipped and feared mage toy at the tower no matter what changes a new so called Divine has placed upon you all”_

_"Why has she done this to me? I am useless now…I can no longer be a Grey Warden”_

_“You are not a Grey Warden”_

_“I have plans Jarin! My job isn't finished yet. On paper I am not but in my heart..in my heart I was a Grey. Now i’m nothing…I have…nothing. I am like them…the pretenders!” the realisation of the revelation now weighed heavily upon her newly healed chest._

_“’Tis true…but you have something better…a welcoming womb and better life expectancy”_

_“For what? What am I supposed to do with that?”_

_Jarin was perplexed at her outburst and doubt flashed across his features. He crumpled up his nose and shifted his braids from his shoulder to his back. Elissa glared at him and saw that they had clearly not thought her reaction through._

_“You are supposed  to get over yourself and marry the foolish blond one, be queen have children like rabbits and generally be grateful.”_

_“Grateful? How can I be? Morrigan should know that myself and Alistair are no longer, We are in the past. Please tell me she thought this up years ago and not in the last year after the nights she heard me tell her so quite bloody clearly. I may not be wanting to level the world anymore but…I still have to go to the Deep Roads. Now. I just won't last as long. ”_

_“Why do you still need to go there? Were you not heading there to stop the pain? Well the pain is no longer, Happy times! Be happy Elissa let us forget the Deep Roads and head to Antiva, My Father always told me that Antiva was a terrible place. All full of assassins and… Antivans !”  
_

_“I was never going there for a holiday Jarin. It was never for me…dieing there was just ..tidier”  
_

_“Elissa, I will warn you again.No Morbid talk I was feeling rather good about myself and you're bringing me crashing down.”  
_

_“And to your other point” she said ignoring him “Me and Alistair will probably at best only be able to stand in the same room together”  
_

_“Nonsense. He sniffs around you like a teenager at first lust. Before you arrived he called a Council together and called in every favour he had, so I heard. You do not just do that for an old flame.”_

_“It is beside the point. Alistair is still tainted; I should look forward to a future in which I watch him leave me for his death? Watch him as I no longer understand why he awakes at night with visions that are ripping his soul apart? I am redundant to his life now even more so than I was before. I don’t understand how she could hate me enough to do this…I…”_

_“Hate you? Well I must say we never bargained for that conclusion, which you are jumping at by the way. Have you considered the fact that he will be overjoyed that he no longer has to consider another wife that will keep his bloodline intact on the throne? Because has been asked to…”_

_Elissa couldn't control her face as it contorted in disapproval at his last remark.  Jarin found it amusing “Well now Elissa. You don't care about that I suppose?”_

_“He is free to wed and mate with whom he chooses.”_

_“But **you** are more than capable of doing so now…you are no longer a Grey Warden and the nobles would have no cause to worry about a dual warden hold on the crown?”_

_Elissa considered his words before slumping to the floor. “I…I cannot tell anyone Jarin. How would I explain how this was done? In fact I don’t even know how this was done. I just about left Weisshaupt with a reasonable explanation for surviving the Archdemon…this…would have me in stocks if not execution. How do I even begin to explain it?”_

_“How do they know if you do not tell them, you have resigned have you not? Alistair will act like a primitive if you ask me; chuck a few toys out the cradle. Really I don’t understand the pedestal you put that boy upon, he doesn’t need nobles and advisors he needs a nanny. He is rash and foolish, unable to rule alone and quite frankly he whines like a washer woman.”_

_“YES…but he is **my** whinging washer woman…I mean…he was, was my whinging washing woman”_

_“So what’s the problem? Find another more suitable man…come…we shall do so now.”_

_“What?”_

_“I am charged to you, I thought we discussed that. If you do not wish to stay and follow that path…then we should waste no time in leaving now. There is much I wish to learn from you and I will not allow that smelly dwarf to join us…so…lets go…”_

_“Back up, Jarin. WE didn’t discuss anything…you brought down my world and then you expect me to huddle up and journey on with you?”_

_“I told you…We did what we did so that you would…”_

_“…Yes, yes I get that..” she now arose and walked over to Jarin, standing just close enough to make him want to step back “…what I don’t understand is why you thought it would be that easy. Morrigan, whether she liked it or not, was a factor behind the most awful four years of my short life. How I got through it I don’t know but one of the main reasons for that is the rash and foolish boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer and dragged me back to mankind and rational thinking..”_

_“…Yes well I had a lot to do with that too…if I hadn’t been there…”_

_“ I know! But…I am not just leaving. I will explain to him of all people and see where I stand with the plans I had before…all this.. I am tired of running and if Morrigan truly believes that I would go through that so I could run away then she was wrong. But I think she knew that…you are a test of hers Jarin. She always did that, throw situations and decisions at me so that she could study how normal people worked outside of the wilds…and she has done so again. Come…”_

_She gestured at Jarin to follow but he stood still arms now folded and his lips crossed with frustration. Elissa had guessed right._

_“Now you can fly or you can walk, but if you are truly bound to me Jarin then I am going back to the castle and you will follow. If you wish to get anything from me, and I believe you want that…then this will be how it is.”_

_She turned her back on him returning to the place she dumped her bow as he gathered up his robes and stomped in a temper tantrum across the leaves and fauna of the forest floor. He huffed and puffed as she sheathed her daggers fighting with himself to get the last word in._

_“Can I just point out to anyone without the mental capacity to realise by now, naming no names…that we are in the fade?”_

Her eyes shot open and her body jolted upright. Jarin stood at the foot of her bed with a pleased and smug look plastered to his magniloquent features.

“Can you turn into a raven here…outside the fade?” Elissa rasped

“I am not limited…wait…is that all you have to ask me after all that?”

“And only a raven?”

“Excuse me?” Jarin was appalled.

“I have much more to ask you but first you must bring me some clothing”

What a waste of a well-measured fade encounter, Jarin thought to himself as he wondered why he was suddenly now her ladies maid. So this is his payment? so far he was not warming to the whole idea.


	10. The Hero Of Ferelden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: WARNING! This chapter makes a few references towards the sexual encounters of our silly two, a reminder that Alistair is a red bloodied man and is once again near the object he desires.

Alistair had left Elissa's chambers feeling like a huge weight had been heaved from his heart leaving it free and much easier to beat. But something old craved its attention now urging its host to dust off the debris that had gathered pushing his desires too far, too early. He searched through his mind checking the events of the past few hours; eagerly searching to recall if he had said anything that would have offended her or more importantly if she showed any signs of forgiveness. He had started the evening by pacing outside her door for an hour before he developed the courage to actually open it, pausing for what seemed like an eternity as he gripped at the door handle. He seemed glad if not nervous to be finally inside and past the strangely over angry and heavily scented mage that guarded the entrance all evening.

Now, many hours later, as he left her quarters he searched the events of the evening for any distant and hopeful sign that she still could look upon him as hers, a smile perhaps, a giggle or even that 'innocent tuck of a loose curl behind her ear' thing that she did when she became unintentionally flirtatious around him. He laughed gently as he rubbed the ache in his stomach. Elissa was always the tom boy to others and never to be mistaken for a temptress but with him…it was different. Both of them were hopeless in the beginning; he would blush when it became excruciatingly difficult to keep his hands off her and she would move away where he would not follow torturing him as he watched her silhouette through her tents canvas. He knew she was showing him what he wanted…slowly giving him time to think about her…them…together.

As he walked along the corridor he began to undo the leather belt at his waist, fumbling with the loops and clasps; he gave up with a sigh, defeated by the simple task choosing instead to get to his rooms as fast as he could.

The final results of the evening became staggering to his morale and he felt a slight spring in his tired feet before he caught himself. He slowly ran his hand through his long dirty blond hair and raked it back into a knot so he could think straight as he closed the distance to his own door. He couldn't help but wonder what Elissas fingers would think of his now long hair and how it would feel with her fingernails brushing roughly against his scalp and tugging.

The thought had him pausing in his steps as blood rushed to a part of his body long forgotten. With a smirk he commended her silently for still having the power to torture his body without doing anything at all.

His own body was turning against him refusing to be controlled now she was near. Impatient with his mind for taking control and walking away his body now raged with desire for something he knew he couldn't have.

 _Breathe…you're not a pubescent boy, Alistair damn it_.

He paused and brought his hands down along his flushed cheeks stopping them to hover over his mouth. He toyed with the idea of turning around and returning to her for a few minutes and even grabbed the cold stone wall for support as he turned back to face the direction he had just come. The familiar voice inside him reasoned with his feral body urges and with a huge push of will he wheeled himself full circle and back now on a path to his own quarters once again. He continued onwards along the quiet corridors as the wall-mounted torches began to flicker as his movement aggravated the small gusts of wind the castle corridors pocketed at that time of year.

He needed to remember the events of the evening to dampen his spirits and gain some control. His steps now took a mournful turn as he thought back to the events that had occurred that night. The two of them had ended up talking peacefully for hours with only the occasional awkward silence. They had even managed to watch the sunrise before she fell asleep gently and away from him closely tucked in by his feet. Alistair shuddered as he knew that her trust would have to be earned back again and although he had explained it all to her he would have to put in a few years of work even for him to be trusted as a friend again. Was that what he wanted? He sighed loudly…it really wasn't.

_Idiot she doesn't even trust you_

Trust…building trust again felt like being back at square one and the sudden realisation of the long road ahead for him stung in his chest, it seemed presumptuous to consider that she would give him a road that he might follow and it could still yet be one in a very different direction.

They had both changed so much. Was the distance between them so wide it couldn't be bridged? When he first gazed upon her that day in Ostagar his first thought was that she looked too green to be on a battlefield. Her pretty short hair was neat and her face was ashen from smoke and fire, she looked like a lost page boy and he decided to not get close to her because she wouldn't be around for long. As their fates became entwined he slowly saw her as the most beautiful creature in Thedas. She was a little paler and thinner now but she was still the Elissa he knew and worshipped from afar. Her hair was longer and darker, naturally curling around her shoulders and ears sculpting the outline of her face like a feathered blanket, shielding her from his wanting glare and intentions. He had watched her breathing steadily as his own slowed; the rise of her frame peacefully goading his eyes to travel down her arms and take in the sight of her cushioned hips and toned stomach. The nightgown she wore had done little to hide her, as he knew all too well what lay underneath it and try as he might his foolish eyes wouldn't pull his gaze from its pathway to where her breasts were hidden.

_By the maker…_

He remembered how dry his mouth had become.

Any sane man would have left at that point but he cursed his weakness as he was far too attached to the idea that she had allowed him to be there, the same thought had echoed in his mind again and again; what if he left then and he never got another chance to be that close to her? He had foolishly relaxed into a familiar peace with her and he relished in it but he gently shook himself to the thought that she wasn't by his side but simply less threatening then when they found her a week before. He tried to balance in his favour the fact that as the truth was finally out there in its painful entirety she hadn't wanted him to leave but could he afford to hold on to that small hope? Was it hope? Maybe it was his own needing to be asleep beside her and not at the opposite end of a stranger's bed? His mind raced with questions and scenarios and he found his hand gripping onto his loose laced collar as his heart shot pangs of pain through his chest, he knew he had no rights to her and when he started this quest he knew she would never be his again...but he still could not shake the feeling that she looked at him like she used to, a twinkle of embarrassment and shyness wrapped up with a smile that knew he would do anything for her…even leave her.

That terrible decision will always outweigh anything good.

Before he had decided to destroy everything with betrayalthey had continued to explore and grow with each encounter, educating each other in desires and daylong fantasies, eager for night-time and the campsite they made a home. She had turned his shy and ignorant Chantry boy into a man who would have needs for her until he took his last breath.

He tried in vain to rid himself of the bad feelings creeping over his gut and willed himself back to focus on his suspicions in her facial expressions and mannerisms towards him in her room, the tone of her voice the position of her hands… If she hated him all these years for spurning her so…then she must still carry around the love that bore it surely?

As he took the steps to the next floor he reprimanded himself. Just the thought of her still loving him made him dizzy with a hope he couldn't afford. She had awakened this yearning inside him when they had first decided to lie with each other all those years ago and he still had not managed to switch it off; they had fallen so very hard and very fast and they willingly went along with it. They both knew that there would be no going back or no others. He had even broken _that_ promise and he wondered if she had.

_First and last…first and only…_

The fury that thought brought gripped at him inside bringing more pain to his chest and head. _I will kill him_. Maybe this was his version of her taint…and also his punishment. He had entertained the idea as a form of torture and penance over the years. 'Where was she?' 'Who was she with?' 'Was she happy?' 'How does he touch her?'…it all ended the same, something was broken or someone was yelled at.

His heart felt like it was ripping itself apart.

His hand reached out desperately for the top of the stairwell as support and he pulled himself up to his floor pausing. He was struggling with being so close to her in her room; he never saw his decision to visit her in her chambers being this painful for him. He genuinely thought that the pain he felt when he met her a week ago in Highever could never be beaten…he was wrong. This was worse. He had allowed himself to watch her as she slept; he had allowed himself to suck in every part of her. Her earthly scent wafted past and over him as she slept, reminding him…taunting him. He should have felt like he couldn't afford to smile, too poor to attempt it and yet he had tried to stop his mouth spreading into a fevered grin as she slept near him, his body trembling with the rekindled feelings and failing restraint to not reach out and touch the leg that was closest to him. A leg that was entwined so innocently in the white linen sheet she slept under. Of course that was the pain in his pleasure, the memories that image brought to the forefront of his mind. The times they had knotted themselves feverishly in bed sheets, wrapped together in sated and sweated bliss and he wanted to pull the covers back and join her. He wondered if one kiss would be too much to ask and he pulled back his stuttering hand as his sinking heart answered the question for him.

A kiss on her lips never ended at that, he was always left with a longing and hungry need to swoop her up and carry her off. It was always made worse by her returning gestures granting him permission to take her as wildly as he would like. He could never remember a time when he had not caught her eyes across a room without wanting to stride across and claim her as his, marking his territory from all the other circling vultures. She was his little bit of nobility covered in dirt and armed with a pair of bloodied daggers charming all with her beautiful smile. People would look to her as he watched her grow from a Teyrns daughter to a mover of men. They would listen to her stirring words and he would feel the room light up with inspired confidence and determination, and all the time he should have been listening…he wanted only to silence her with his mouth. She could bark all the orders she wanted to him and others outside but when he had her on his own she knew he was in charge and gladly succumbed with the sweetest mewling's in his arms allowing him to dominate and decide what he wanted to do with her.

 _That look of surrender in her eye…That passion_ …

Passionate never quite covered how they used to be and even in the darkness of the deep roads he had wanted nothing more than to cradle her up and press her body against any rock that would support them as he took her. Even in that dark and evil place he wanted her naked and in his hands muttering his name again and again until he urged her closer, clinging on to him as he kneaded and controlled her release. The heat between them always glistened, as they became one, panting and stifling moans with hands and lips' trying to silence yells of sensual fulfilment before they echoed through the tense and lust saturated air. When they were done and their bodies could not take holding it off any longer they would succumb to the waiting white light of devotion and a life-promising climax. And he never tired of it.

_Maker, please, I want her…_

He sped along the corridor to his room and opened the door hurriedly shutting it behind him, gripping onto the wooden panels pushing it closed he used all his strength to push his weight against it as if a demon were to blow it open and drag him back to her .That same usual memory tortured him as well as comforted him in the past yet it became more real every time it visited and now it was unbearable.

He fought for breath.

This was his punishment and one he would have taken gladly had he not laid eyes on her again. Now that he had, the burning need for her returned with a vengeance and any hope that he dangled in front of his soul could only be seen as more self-indulged pain. By telling himself that there was no chance he had protected himself in the past from her rebuttal of his still warm and smouldering affections towards her but now the echo of hope danced dangerously close to his soul and it hurt. It hurt like nothing he had ever experienced. He felt like he had endured everything after he sent her away but he was wrong again.

After she had left Denerim four years ago, Alistair tried his best to carry on as normal, saving his despair for his private rooms. To everyone else he would be the normal Alistair but his refection would always see that he was lonely and in pain. Night after night he would take his place on a wooden stool on his room's balcony and curse at the view in front of him. From his chamber window there was a breath taking view of all Ferelden North bound but more to the point… Highever. In his mind he saw her heading there and every night he would glance out towards its direction to see if she was coming back, defying him like she always did…she always did that…why wasn't she defying him? He would sit and wait and drink himself into a stupor until the pain could barely be felt slowly turning the situation around on to her abandoning him. _He_ had tested her and _she_ had failed.

Of course...the next morning he was sober and the memory of him sending her away became fresh and real. His heart was just as cracked as hers must have been but he slowly knew he had to remain strong. He did not have the luxury to take his frustration out on straggling Darkspawn and even when Vigils Keep was under siege three years ago he rushed from the battle back to where nothing could remind him of her so easily. He had half hoped to find her six months after they had parted but she was not there.

Years later and her name had started to be bounced around court again. Firstly it was a whisper and then a commotion as the worms at court decided she was wearing boots too big for her, nothing of a coincidence that they wanted their own family to be married to the king and in their own tender and vile way they thought that muddying her name to him would be the best way. But it backfired. Hearing her name again only made him wonder where she was and the nagging feeling grew and grew until he needed to see her and a plan started to form in his mind.

Amaranthine had been lost two years previous and the people were slowly starting to rebuild. He learnt then how much his country needed her and that in comparison to her; a king was but a figurehead to wear on a coin. At his request the wardens returned to Ferelden as the last of the surrounding villagers moved further a-field to Denerim and Redcliffe for safety. After countless missives sent to both the inquisition and Weisshaupt he had received word that orders had been issued to Elissa for her to return to Ferelden. Months followed and no sign of any Warden presence in Ferelden could be found which strongly suggested she had ignored instructions. It was later found that she has accepted the orders and emerged from her hiding place in Orlais of all places and ventured to Orzammer instead sending no word to her superiors. Months seemed to pass and no word had been heard from Highever of her whereabouts. Alistair had all available scouts out looking for her but reports had ceased from the wardens completely and the officials Denerim had sent were frozen out. He would have feared the worst but Highever did not seem worried at all it as seemed that she was still in contact with them at least. Five months flew past and a report from the kings own guard informed Denerim that a small army of men and wardens were spotted manoeuvring over the Imperial Huy and toward the Coastlands, without a moment to lose he mounted a small band of men and headed North.

A week later and she was now in Redcliffe, enlightened to the evil behind her last four years and sleeping peacefully in a room two floors down from him…could it be that easy?

He began to breathe in the cooler chamber that was to hold him for the rest of that night and he fought with everything he had to not go back and tell her how he felt. Pinching the bridge of his nose he tried to keep images of her broken and wrecked body in his arms at the front of his thoughts hoping to pacify any ideas about going back to her room and making matters worse.

He slowly released his grip from the door and took a step forward. He knew he would be staying there now and the look of terror on his face turned into relief, he had won a very small victory and a small part of him was proud. He made a beeline for his turned down bed and slumped down stretching his legs in front of him attempting to remove his boots by the heels of the opposite feet. He pulled his shirt up and over his head discarding it to the floor to rest with his now limp footwear.

He ran his hands over his stiff and tense neck feeling every inch as tired as he should be when his eyes suddenly caught his field bedroll upon a large wooden table decorated with various paperwork maps and books. He took a deep breath in and stood again; stepping over his now drabbled clothing he made his way over to the large white roll of cotton and leather. He looked it over and saw that the tight wraps that held it strong and securely rolled had not been tampered with and his eyes closed lightly as if to pray that the quarry he always stashed there would still be so. He reached into the middle with an eager hand and searched out for a slight bump in the material.

With a sudden grasp upon a small cold item his eyes whipped open and he pulled his hand and wrist out clutching a small treasure that brought a waft of joy over his troubled features. No matter what happened, or what event would always tick away at him and remove an inch of his good nature, this item would always be there, tucked within his bedroll or bedside cabinet. Every night it would come out and every morning it would go back. He unrolled his fist and brought his other hand up to support a slight silver neck chain and its tattered locket. He traced the cracks of the delicate repairs and the original outlines of his mother's locket as he always did and walked intuitively back to his bed. He sat once more and played with the lockets clasp that he held so delicately in his hand, he opened its heart and was greeted by an aged women's smiling portrait proudly guarding a single tiny rose petal that sat loosely in the open space opposite it. The two symbols held so much power over him and as he glanced lovingly at his mother's image watching over a salvaged rose-petal, he shut the locket and blew the candle out next to his bed. Still gripping on to it carefully he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. Whatever monster was creeping around inside him trying to pollute his chances at happiness once more, would not win tonight, not as long as he had the locket…and a symbol of what would never be broken. Dying memories of the evening now faded away as he fell slowly into the fade and to sleep.

_As he moved to sit back down on the bed reassuring her that he was not leaving Redcliffe he watched as she manically tried to tuck a lose curl behind her ear, pushing herself backwards to the far end of the bed fighting not to blush…allowing him room to sit and keep her company._

"There it is!" he shouted as his eyes flew open

"There it is!"

**U:U:U:U:U:U:**

The dining room within Redcliffe castle was smaller than you would presume. When Teagan was not entertaining huge banquets or festivals the Arl of Redcliffe would move the dining room to one of the smaller back rooms that they now occupied. A large six seated carved wooden table stood in the middle and the serving trays and stands stood to the back by the doors and windows, flowers were in abundance but did nothing to hide the smell of the Arl's daily intake of smoked kipper. Leliana sat to the left of Teagan who played with his dish and took the top seat, Alistair had no intentions of reworking the seating arrangements and whilst the seat was offered to him he declined and chose to sit opposite Leliana, The Divine, instead. Next to Leliana sat Ayla Levallen the inquisitor and opposite her and next to Alistair his old friend, Cullen. A place was laid at the end of the table but not yet taken and Alistair stared at it with concern as Leliana probed the reasoning behind the sudden bizarre outing the king had planned for their captive that afternoon.

"Fishing? Alistair you plan to ask Elissa Cousland, to go fishing with you? Why on earth would any woman say yes to that?" she screwed her mouth at Ayla next to her and as if a silent conversation had taken place between the two Ayla also did the same. Alistair prized his eyes from the far seat and grabbed at a piece of buttered toast that had gone cold before him. Cullen huffed out a laugh and filled his mouth with hot food so as not to answer in his defence but Alistair knew for a fact Cullen would have taken Ayla fishing if he had a chance, perhaps not now however.

"Yes. Don't look at me like I am insane, Lel, I can feel your boggled eyes and they are indeed chilling. She needs normalcy and I hear that fishing is about as normal and peaceful as you can get"

"For a man, yes." She giggled in amazement.

"Could she skewer you with a fishing rod do you think?" Tegan's input silenced the room and a serving boy placing eggs upon the sideboard dropped the hot containers lid in astonishment to the outcome of his eavesdropping, the clang of its metal upon the stone floor rang out and highlighted the shock of the question.

Leliana and Alistair stopped eating their breakfast and stared at Teagan with disbelief.

"Oh do come on, you are all thinking it."

"I can assure you, Arl, I am not" Leliana replied, a tiny dot of rage bubbling beneath her calm surface. "Alistair has warned you about listening to court gossip and I will remind you that she is…calm. You know her more than any of those stuffy children at court; trust me, your concerns of fishing rod genocide are not warranted. Ask Alistair. Did she not seem fine when you left her this morning?"

Leliana winked at Alistair as his head whipped up in surprise at her question. Cullen and Ayla both looked over their cutlery attempting subtlety and awaiting his answer. It would seem they had all had this conversation before he had arrived this morning. Leliana still had ears and eyes everywhere.

A giggle was heard from a serving girl behind Teagan and Leliana put on her official face as her stunned and misunderstanding host gave her a silent stare of restraint. Teagen waved his hand loosely in the air indicating to the young staff that they would be fine to serve themselves from now and as the door closed behind the last servant, Ayla took up the baton as Inquisitor and returned to a separate line of questioning.

"I hate to be the one to bring this up Alistair and I think you would probably want to talk about this rather than…well…" she blushed and Cullen smiled across the table at her "…well…DO you think her ready for a visit from myself? I would very much like to…I'm ashamed to say…test the waters? It's imperative that we speak." Alistair picked up his fork once more and returned his gaze to the plate. He really wasn't sure what line of conversation he wanted to take but he answered Ayla none the less "She is no threat to you Ayla, I swear it."

"It's…it's not that." She folded her knife and fork gently on the plate and laid her napkin gently on the table next to her. Alistair felt Cullen tense beside him "Oh?" he replied continuing his food in his own kingly way, his bacon being more important then what he knew he didn't want to hear.

"I have reports" She continued leaning slightly forward so as to keep her voice to a minimal.

Alistair raised his head at this and looked directly at the owner of the seat next to Ayla and Leliana coughed uncomfortably shifting her eyes to the ceiling and behind her.

"Ok…Leliana…has heard that on her travels around Thedas of late Elissa may have been in contact with someone we would very much like to reach?"

"Someone you would very much like to reach? Who? Sounds important…should I be aware of this importance as King of Ferelden?"

"Alistair..." Ayla was about to hold back and pat the little King on his head possibly telling him that she would take care of it and he could feel his good mood ebbing away. He thought they were all there to help Elissa and he was starting to fear a separate motive was now in play.

"Solas" Cullen kicked in knowing what Alistair would rather prefer to hear up front. Ayla glared briefly over the table at Cullen and he shrugged his shoulders in response. "We can dance around it all you like Ayla but Alistair won't tell you anything unless you tell him everything. Am I right your majesty?"

Alistair smiled, he was right. Cullen at least had redeemed himself.

"Who is this Solas? And more importantly what do you want with this Solas?" he placed his cutlery carefully down and steepled his fingers leaning into them resting gently on his lips as the group watched him ponder on "Do you want to talk to him or does the Inquisition? These are all important questions, Inquisitor. If you're about to tell me he is an apostate with a sob story…good luck with that. Elissa collects them with vigour."

He relaxed his hands again returning them to his eating tools and continued to cut at the meat on his plate with gusto. As far as he was concerned that was all on the matter. He knew Elissa and her weakness for needy mages.

The room went silent and Leliana almost threw her cutlery down on the table whilst Teagan ran his hands through his beard listening to the conversation unravelling around him. His frown grew more intense by the minute.

"Alistair, this is serious"

"And so am I. Lel' you know her also. She won't hand over anyone to any established movement that could possibly need protection...you are still looking for the mage that blew up the Chantry, right?"

"Are you saying Elissa has 'collected' him? He blew up the Chantry for Andrastes sake. So you are now admitting she knows where he is?"

"Leliana. Blowing up anything is pretty big in my book. Blowing up the Chantry was avoidable and wrong. But back then, when you asked my opinion on whether she would cooperate on handing him over…I said?"

"You said no"

"And did I dally around with that answer? Did it take me long to come to that conclusion?"

"No"

"My answer remains the same now."

"I understood your point with him, Alistair. He was a Grey…"

"He was an annoying Grey but one who felt persecuted. The Chantry persecuted Mages Leliana, we all saw things. This Anders fellow was pushed to the edge and that is the important point in Elissa's eyes."

"In Elissa's eyes _and_ yours?"

"Leliana…I am the King of Ferelden and I was raised in the Chantry"

"Answer the question Your Majesty"

"Lel…" Alistair fixed her with a look that told her to back down. They were friends and the conversation had turned into something challenging. This was what always happened with official meetings around tables of war, tables of peace or even tables of breakfast. Alistair didn't want to go there with his friend and he sensed she didn't either.

Leliana began to back down and her face relaxed as she continued first "I understand that when I asked for you back then to reach out to Elissa to see if she harboured this Mage that it was a nigh impossible request to make. Plus at the time she told me to go…"

"And, Dear Leliana Holy Divine...She would tell you to go there now"

"Well..." Ayla cut in with a serious expression on her face. It was almost pained and her eyes looked full of sadness "I am not the Chantry and…Solas is not a Grey and to boot he does not like them…so why would she protect him?"

"Because he needs it? Because _She_...is a Grey. And so am I…and it really would depend on whether he blew something up now wouldn't it?" Alistair searched the Inquisitors face sitting opposite him. She fidgeted and fought an internal debate inside seemingly looking for the right words to say.. _Another mage blew something up?_ He thought to himself.

"Alistair..." it was Cullen's turn "Ayla means him no harm to him at all."

"I...I just need answers. He is very dear to me…a friend who I think is in pain or torment."

Alistair bit the inside of his lip and took a moment to look over the faces of the people around the table. Ayla genuinely felt anguished at this request and he trusted her enough to believe what she said was true.

"Very well... " He began breaking the awful silence now dangling over their heads "Speak with her. Ask your questions…carefully" He impressed the next point with his finger pointed directly at Leliana "You. You do not ask her anything!" Leliana pouted "I say that because you two…will need extra work. This Divine thing…is big. She isn't big on the Chantry Leliana, you know that."

"I can explain. Changes in the Chantry have already started and I will tell her that I…" Leliana began to explode with explanation.

"…Leliana. I know. I am in the very same boat, you need to fix your friendship with her first and ask favours of her second. Ayla needs to grovel also" He turned his attentions on the dejected Elf "...in fact I think it would be good for you to perhaps open with another subject? I can help by telling you that from what I have heard you need to explain Hawke and Stroud. I am not going to colour this in flowers…she would rather Hawke had died. Stroud was like kin to her. Perhaps the safe sanction of the Greys back to Ferelden would fatten her up with happiness…and then test the waters. I know you have agreed their eventual full return but she may feel the Anderfels is safer. I don't want her to feel that way, if you understand me?"

Ayla nodded and her face broke out into a grin "I already thought of that and I have a gift" "Good, use it", Alistair turned his eyes to look at Cullen and his stomach jumped as he saw his old friend delight in her happy mood change. He beamed watching her. Once he seemed satisfied that she was happy with the outcome he happily returned to his food. Alistair understood everything that man felt. He found he was enjoying being Elissa's mouthpiece, knowing that he was the one who knew her inside and out and they knew it. He did. He knew everything about her

"So…you didn't answer the question Your Majesty" Alistair returned his attentions back to Leliana who had been assessing him watching Cullen by the look of it. She never missed anything that had anything to do with someone else. She was wiley and he liked that about her but it was a pain!

"And what question was that?"

"How was Elissa when you left her this morning?" Teagen choked on his tea and Leliana was back on winning form. She was always one for romantic kindling and gossip she quite clearly had made her mind up to fix the void in which her two close friends had fallen even though she had her own to deal with. Alistair looked at her with pity at first and then back to his breakfast before she could read that it would be hopeless to even try. He always thought her worldly and wise in the way of hurt and betrayal but now he wondered if she saw hope with the two of them, Then perhaps she was just naive.

"She was asleep when I arrived and asleep when I left." He grunted.

"That's not what Jarin says"

"Jarin?"

"The Mage who saved her life"

"Yes...well he is weird and smells like a woman's laundry draw. Never trust a man who wears more jewellery than you do."

"Mature comeback as always Alistair"

The two grinned at each other across the table as children would whilst they teased each other and Teagan decided it was a good time to display his own feelings on the matter.

"So the waters have not yet been tested? Tread carefully Alistair"

"All is resolved Teagan, trust me there will be no bludgeoning with bait...just fishing." The girls at the table groaned and Alistair brushed their complaint's off.

"If you say so, just…be careful" Teagan was not convinced.

"I saw her skewer a tainted rat with her toothbrush once...maybe we should make that item contraband too…fishing rods and toothbrushes" Alistair said stuffing his third round of toast into his mouth and dabbing it lightly with a napkin.

"Did she indeed, well the cook would love to see how she did that!"

Alistair smiled as Leliana joined the teasing. The red head folded her own napkin and placed it on her empty plate, folding her arms and locking her probing eyes on Alistair.

"So…would you like to be alone on this escapade or do you require company?"

Alistair smirked

"Now…are you asking for my safety, Holy Divine? Or are you worried that we will come back with grass stains? Maybe you are hoping perhaps? Hopeless romantic aren't you? Not everything can be fixed with a dashing smile and a white horse you know. And I should know my smile is the most dashing."

"Well, it definitely will not if you take her fishing Alistair! She may very well live on the road and camp with men but she is a woman after all. You never did capture seduction, I wager that she will not go fishing...try hunting or…"

"…What has romance or seduction to do with recuperation?" Teagan interrupted eager to have this matter come to a close. Alistair's betrothal was being bid on in the noblest houses of Ferelden and putting support behind a player that was in no way favoured would place his household in a sticky situation indeed. "That is all it is, let us not get carried away. Alistair said he is taking her for some fresh air and peace and I for one think that a good idea. Leave the man alone …have some more porridge"

Teagan watched the two as he pushed the smoked fish around on his plate pretending not to notice Leliana was aghast at being instructed to mind her business. She silently fumed as she glared at him. Teagan had to admit that Alistair did look better this morning he seemed almost free but he hoped it was not false hope that dwindled in his mind. Being in love is one thing but an attachment to Elissa was to be a battle for his official posting and anyone else who agreed. The court would not take the news of the King and Elissa being alone and at Redcliffe very well and he was sure that his name was mud already. He knew all too well what the fishing idea was all about. The lake beside the castle was secluded and empty after the morning rush for supplies, and its serene and picturesque surroundings were perfect for trying to get closer and gaining some lost ground. Alistair was king but still a man and Teagan grunted as he thought that he would have done exactly the same thing if it were he.

"How long do we have the pleasure of your company, Alistair?"

"Do you mean my company Teagan or Elissa's?" Alistair could feel his agitation climbing up the hairs on the back of his neck. What had this woman done that would turn the ones she helped by laying down her life for them against her? He was sick of hearing this from the ones that he trusted.

Teagan dabbed at his mouth and leant back into his chair before looking Alistair straight in the eyes.

"Very well. Elissa's. The staff are on edge and the king here is pining away over the wrong woman!"

"Wrong woman? Please do tell us who the right woman for me is? Do you have a stake on the poor brats they have lined up for me back at Denerim? What have you to lose by allowing me to do with my own life what I please? Eamon was fine with my wishes so why not you?" Alistair had now risen from his seat and was leaning towards a seated and regretful Teagan, fury pouring out of him and upon the seated Arl who listened to the words with shame "The staff are on edge because their 'Hero of Ferelden' was at deaths door in their own home after _they_ themselves dragged _her_ in to it! She had ordered them to stand down and they did not…for her own good! What? You think so little of her that you conclude they are frightened of her? Teagan…what has happened to you? Who has rattled from my eyes the man I sought out to help me?"

Teagen gripped at the chairs arms regretting having started the conversation, he thought of all the names listed on the courting registrar but even he could not find one that wasn't selfish, spoilt or rotten. Alistair was right, again and as he played with apologies in his head the dining room door shot open and slammed backwards into the tea chest that used to sit so prettily as an ornamental piece of furniture beside it.

"My…L-Liege and L-Lord…"

A portly man dressed in green grabbed at his heavy chest trying to grab the breaths that would relay the message he was so desperate to deliver. Ayla was up and over to the new arrival and Cullen had followed.

"Good grief Barrett…spit it out man!" Teagan leaped from his chair and raced to the messenger in obvious distress. Alistair moved towards them and Leliana grabbed at her skirt folds ready to jump into the action she was sure accompanied this interruption.

"Grey Wardens…a company of Grey Wardens... is r-riding towards us. They have sent word ahead to get things ready for their arrival Sire and with it this message for the King…oh I f-forgot to b-bow" The overweight messenger tried in vain to bow and ended up collapsing with the effort. Alistair rushed forward before the portly herald got himself into further medical trouble and relieved the scroll that was being waved manically towards him.

"Don't worry about that man, rest. A company of Grey Wardens, how many exactly?"

Alistair's mind was working overtime what on earth was a gathering of wardens doing in Ferelden; maybe they were Highever greys in search of their old leader? He hoped so. He unwound the parchment and read the short message within.

 _The Chamberlain of the Grey and Second Warden of Orlais Tahret Fregain_ _requests an audience with the people's king of Ferelden and Grey Warden Alistair Theirin. Please note that the presence of Warden Commander Elissa Cousland is also demanded and the issue is forced upon_ _her by any means should she decline._

"Around 60-70 your Majesty."

The group exhaled at the amount. Alistair looked at Teagan who shrugged his shoulders "I know nothing about this Alistair I swear it."

Leliana took the opportunity to shrug her shoulders also "I am annoyed to say that neither do I. And whilst we are on the subject, Orlais? Second Warden of Orlais? What kind of title is that?" Leliana squeaked as she pulled the paper from Alistair's hands.

"A made up one is what" he muttered to himself but Cullen had heard clearly. Alistair saw his worried eyes travel to Ayla first as she examined the out of breath Messenger and then back over to his friend "Alistair, what does this mean? The Inquisition never gave full permission for Wardens to march through Ferelden only Elissa...for you." he stated. Cullen sounded wary of an Orlesian army travelling so freely on Ferelden soil and Alistair was quick to let him know he knew nothing of this.

"I do not know Cullen and by the sounds of it Elissa doesn't either. This troubles me as much as you. Leliana…wake Elissa and ready her. Tell her what and who is coming and show her this, she will understand. Teagan…we have some arrangements to make and I truly do need to know now whose side you are on."

Leliana did not wait to hear the conversation between the rest of the group. She jumped over the exhausted messenger and straight up the hallway to the stairwell.

"My king? I am wounded that you need to ask" Spoke Teagan from his side "Forgive my intrusions they are born only out of concern for you."

Alistair placed a hand on Teagan's shoulder as he reassured him that this new news brought forgiveness and an end to their earlier disputes, this should have made Teagan happy yet it left a foreboding sensation in his gut.

"I know that Teagan but I need you to uphold her claim on her role in Denerim. Side with her if I ...if I am not here and keep her focused guiding her as an Arlessa, you will find the documents in my saddle bags upstairs…swear it to me, as a friend and not your king."

"I swear it, but Alistair I do not understand, why would you leave?"

"Before King, Teagan, I am first a Warden and one who does not defy a Chamberlain of our order…which I feel I may be about to do. Let us just hope that I don't drag Ferelden down with me, remember her for what she did here four years ago…what she would do again for you even if you kicked her out after I was gone."

"All for a woman? Alistair…no"

"No, not for a woman…for her! She _is_ Ferelden! Do you not see it Teagan? A noble born who shed her roots and dug in with the very poorest of us! Every Dwarf, Elf, Mage man and woman owe her something and they depend on her so much that they look to her to show them the way. If I died tomorrow they would move someone else in and only record my name in a history book but if you take her away…they would crumble, build statues to her and mourn her yearly. They want to name a sodding age after her. Ferelden is not done with her yet…and you know it, Teagan!"

The words began to sink in and Teagan stuttered in confidence but a sudden understanding gripped at his instructions." I do not know why they are coming here, Alistair, but I feel as you do that she will not want to go with them… and if she does not...I will not make her"

Alistair beamed at Teagan and they laughed nervously each grabbing a struggling arm of the collapsing messenger so as to pull him back to his panting feet.

"I swear it" Teagan finally uttered as Alistair nodded his approval back at him in a silent thank you.

"Good…now, let's get this man and me some morning mead, Maker knows I am going to need it. Cullen…Ayla...you may need to pack and can someone search the tavern in town for Oghren."

 


End file.
